Someone to Watch my Back
by NCCJFAN
Summary: After concluding that Woody doesn't really want a relationship with her, Jordan complies to his request to "Go Away." Despite her agreement, she vows to remain his friend and "watch his back." Only problem is, Woody doesn't know how to handle the conseq
1. Sleeping Pills and Little Old Ladies

_Don't own any of 'em. Wouldn't know what to do with them if I did....but the fun I would have ....._

* * *

_Why wouldn't the banging on the door stop? _Woody thought groggily as he clumsily staggered to the door of his apartment. He was still sleeping off the overdose of sleeping pills that he had been given in that cup of tea this morning by the lady that owned the boarding house....the woman that killed the IRS agent by bashing his head in with the burner on her stove.

The ungodly banging continued, this time along with a voice he knew....he knew all too well.

"Woody! Let me in!" yelled Jordan, realizing he was probably sound asleep.

The door opened suddenly and Jordan found herself face-to-face with him. "What do you want?" he asked half-angrily, half-sleepily. Jordan knew he was probably upset with her on several levels...one for waking him up and another for keeping him at arms length for so long.

"I want to examine you," she said, then noting the way his eyebrows hit his hairline in surprise, she went on to explain, "Lily told me you got fed too many sleeping pills today in a cup of tea. I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I'm fine Jordan. All I need is some sleep. Now would you please just go away and let me get some?" Woody tried to close the door, but she had already put her foot inside the threshold.

"No can do, Farm Boy. Not until I've at least looked you over and made sure you're okay."

"You examine dead people. What do you know about the living?"

"Quite a lot, actually." She pushed her way inside and then proceeded to push him down on the couch. "Now sit still. This won't hurt a bit. And I promise to be gentle." She grinned, trying to humor him.

Woody frowned at her. Why was she really here? To gloat over his condition? To offer unwanted sympathy? He watched as she pulled a small pen light from her bag. She pushed him back on the couch and tilted his head back on the cushions. Then she examined his pupils. He winced at the bright light. She then took his hand and felt his pulse. "How sleepy are you?"

"I'm still pretty out of it."

"How long have you been asleep?"

Woody looked at the clock on the end table. He came back to his apartment at four. Noting it was now past ten, he said, "A little more than six hours."

Satisfied that his pulse was fine and his pupils were responding, she clicked the light off and slapped his thigh. "You'll live. But I imagine you're going to need to sleep it off until tomorrow morning. Go get in your bed. I want to check on you one more time before I go."

"Jordan, I'm fine. Please go now."

"I will go....after I check on you one more time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Woody stumbled to his bedroom and stripped down to his boxers. Pulling the blankets back on his bed, he climbed in. He could hear her in his living room, putting her penlight and things away. _Why had she come?_ He wondered. He had pursued their friendship harder than she had. Jordan didn't trust easily and had rebuffed his advances more times than he wanted to count. Yet here she was, in his apartment, acting concerned. Taking time out of her schedule to examine him ... make sure he was all right. Why? Did she care more than she let on?

He heard her at his door. She lightly knocked. "Is it okay for me to come in?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Okay, Woody. Let me check you one more time."

"I'm really fine, Jo."

"Let me be the judge of that." She pulled back his eyelids and examined his pupils once more. Then again took his pulse. "You're right...you're fine." She smiled at him. "Just don't take anymore tea from old ladies, hmmm?"

He mumbled something sleepily and rolled over onto his side. She watched him fall asleep. Pulling the covers snugly around him, she pushed the hair off his forehead and let her fingers trail down his cheek. She left his bedroom, softly pulling the door to behind her.

No matter how mad Woodrow Hoyt might get, she wasn't leaving him alone tonight. She wasn't sure how many sleeping pills that old lady put in that cup of tea, but she couldn't rest if she knew he was by himself. Neither Lily nor Bug had had the presence of mind to bring the teacup, teapot, or anything back to run tests on. She sat on the edge of his couch and pulled her shoes off. She was going to bunk down on his couch tonight and keep a check on him. She didn't have to be into her office until tomorrow after lunch. She could afford to loose a few hours of sleep tonight. She tucked a small pillow under her head and pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and settled down. She would check on him again in a few hours.

He seemed to be fine. He looked more than fine...clad only in the boxers. Jordan had no idea exactly how well-built Woody was. He had held her when they danced, and she was aware of how muscular his arms were....but not his chest and abs...not really. Other than that time she had caught a brief glimpse of him in his office without his shirt, she had never seen him more undressed than just removing his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt. _Damn...they grow nice-looking boys in Wisconsin_, she thought before sleep finally claimed her, too.

Three hours later, she awoke, slightly disoriented about where she was. She looked at the clock on the end table. It showed 3:15 a.m. She pulled herself off the couch and tiptoed to Woody's room. Softly, she opened the door and quietly walked over to his bed. Easing herself down on the edge, so not to wake him, she took his hand and felt his pulse. It was steady. She leaned over and listened to his breathing. It was steady, too. When she sat back, she was startled to see him looking at her. "I thought I told you to leave," he said, still groggy.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd hang around here for a while longer and make sure you were really okay."

"I'm fine....go home and rest."

"I will," she said to him, then under her breath added "later."

She once again left his bedroom and shut the door behind her, making her way to his couch and falling back to sleep. He wasn't grateful to see her, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Jordan knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if something happened to him. So she was staying the night, whether he liked it or not.


	2. Roses for a Friend

The incessant ringing of the alarm clock woke Woody out of his state of stupor. Still a tad groggy, he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature and the spray. He vaguely remembered what happened yesterday. He remembered the tea with the sleeping pills. He remembered finally making his way back to his apartment and falling asleep. He remembered Jordan coming over and checking him out ... examining him to make sure he was going to be okay. And vaguely, very vaguely, he thought he remembered her coming to his bedroom early this morning to check on him yet again. He shook his head. He had told her to go home... surely that had been a dream.

He climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the kitchen. Someone had already started the coffee. There was a used cup on the counter. He swung around to the living area. The throw was still lying on the couch, silent testimony that she had indeed, stayed the night to make sure he was okay. She was gone now...perhaps she left when she heard him get in the shower....but she had been here...all night. Why?

A half an hour later, he strode into the morgue, determined to find out. He checked her office. She wasn't there. He met Bug coming out of Trace Evidence. "Where's Jordan?" he asked.

Bug chuckled at him. "Feeling better, Sleeping Beauty?" he asked. Then noticing Woody's expression, he continued. "She doesn't have to be in today until after lunch. Why?"

"I need to talk to her."

"Want me to tell her you're looking for her?"

Woody thought for a minute. That might scare her off. "No....don't tell her I was here. It's not real important. I'll just come back by around two."

Bug nodded. "She should be here then," he was wondering what new trouble Jordan may have gotten herself into.

* * *

Jordan rode the elevator back up to her apartment. She hadn't gotten much sleep on Woody's couch last night, but didn't dare try to crawl in bed with him. She had a feeling he would have reached for his service revolver if she had. She grimaced. She knew she wasn't his favorite person...but despite what she had told him, she did care deeply for him....She went to his apartment because she was worried about him. Nothing more, nothing less....

Opening her apartment door, she checked her wristwatch. It was seven. She could get in a good three or four hours of sleep before she had to report in to the morgue. She pulled down her bed clothes and changed into her girl boxers and a tank top. But sleep evaded her. She knew, with enough of the sleeping pills in his system, Woody would have been uninhibited enough to talk freely to her...sort of like being in a drunken stupor. Yes, she had gone to his apartment to make sure he was okay. That really was her main concern. But she had sort of hoped she could get a read on his feelings for her. Had they changed?

She rolled over and punched her pillow. The only thing he kept saying to her was _get out, leave, go home, I'm fine..._Well, whether he liked it or not, she stayed the night. _He probably didn't like it...and I'll probably catch hell from him that I did...but at least I knew he was safe and okay._ Her eyes were growing heavy. Finally, she sighed and gave into the rest that her body was beginning to crave so badly.

She woke up three hours later, relatively rested. Quickly showering and doing her make up and hair, she was back in the morgue before one...early for once.

"Afternoon, Jordan," greeted Garrett. He had nearly run into her, coming out of his office looking only at the file in his hand and not paying attention to where he was going.

"Hey, Garrett. What's in that file that has you so engrossed you can't watch where you're going?"

"Just some lab reports back on that John Doe Nigel found in the park last week. How's Woody?"

"He had some major sleeping-off-the-drugs to do, but he'll be okay."

"So you checked on him last night?"

"Yeah, I went over after work. His pupils were responding well and his pulse was steady, so he's okay. He's probably back hard at work even as we speak."

"I imagine so...how long did you stay last night?"

Jordan gave Garrett a quizzical look. Where was this line of questioning going? No one but she knew she had stayed at Woody's all night. She'd bet good money he didn't even know. She had risen well before he was even conscious this morning and started the coffee. As soon as she heard his alarm go off and the shower turn on, she had left quickly and quietly. She had seen no reason to alert him to the fact that she had stayed with him all night, keeping a check on him, making sure he was okay.

"I stayed a while...I wanted to make sure the sleeping pills didn't come back to double-whammy him at some point."

Garrett grunted. "Seems like he may be grateful."

"Garrett, what the hell are you talking about?"

He simply pointed to her office. There, sitting on her desk in a crystal vase, was a dozen gorgeous pink sweetheart roses. "Lily brought them in a little while ago. They were delivered to the front desk."

Jordan slowly walked over to her desk and looked at the roses. They were beautiful ... deep pink, her favorite color...She couldn't remember the last time someone had sent her flowers...Tyler had never done it. Maybe it was her last high school prom date...She wrinkled her forehead, trying to think....not noticing the cluster of her co-workers that was forming at her door.

"Well?" asked Nigel.

"Well, what?" asked Jordan.

"Who are they from?" asked Peter.

She gave them a patented Jordan stare-down. "Why on earth should any of you care who sent me flowers?"

"Because it's never happened before," answered Bug.

"And we've been waiting since about ten this morning," said Garrett.

"They're awfully pretty...and very expensive this time of year," said Lily. "March is not the time for roses."

"Let me look at the card in peace, you guys. If it's something you should know about, I'll be the first to tell you. Now _go away._" She ushered them all away from her door. Nigel hung back.

"Please, love. Tell me. You know I am the soul of discretion."

Jordan rolled her eyes at him and shoved him out her door. "Later, Nige." Then noticing that some of the staff was still plastered against the glass windows of her office, she quickly lowered the blinds and locked the door. Sitting down on the edge of her desk, she pulled the card out from its envelope and read it.

_Thanks for staying last night. Sorry I was such a bastard. Let me make it up to you. Love, Woody._

Jordan swallowed the lump in her throat and carefully put the card back in the envelope and slid the envelope in her pants pocket. It would be better if everyone just thought the flowers were from her dad or grandmother. The line about _staying the night_ would throw everyone into a tizzy and frankly, she wasn't up to their questions. She wasn't reading anymore into the flowers than what they were...a sign of appreciation. But she needed to do the right thing and thank Woody.

With a sigh, she dutifully flipped open her cell phone and dialed his number. "Hoyt," he said a few seconds later.

"Hey...thanks for the roses. They're beautiful."

Woody leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself. Women and flowers...no matter what the woman, even Jordan Cavanaugh, they liked flowers.

"You're welcome. It's the least I could do after the way I acted last night."

"It was the sleeping pills....how are you feeling this morning?"

"Rested."

Jordan chuckled. She bet he did feel rested...he had slept for over 12 hours. He was probably more hyper than usual now. "I imagine you won't sleep a wink tonight."

"Maybe...maybe not. I am sorry for the way I treated you, though. Let me buy you dinner tonight to make up for it."

Jordan hesitated. She wasn't sure about dinner. "That's okay, Wood. You don't have to apologize or make up for anything. I know the sleeping pills were doing the talking. The roses were more than enough...I don't deserve them."

Woody was slightly taken aback...why didn't she think she at least deserved the roses? "Yes, you do...you stayed with me all night... I know you didn't get any rest on the couch."

"It's okay, Woody, really. Friends do stuff like that for each other, you know?"

"Friends..."

"Yeah, friends."

There was silence on the line for a moment. Swallowing hard, he asked, "Friends. Is that all we are, Jordan?"

"Woody, I am your friend for life. But you know me...I don't do too well in relationships. But I can be your friend forever and a day."

Woody signed inwardly and ran a hand down his face. "Okay, Jordan. Friends. That's all we'll ever be."

"Well, yeah. Thanks for the roses. And I do mean that....they're gorgeous."

"Sure. Anytime. Talk with you soon. Bye."

"Bye."

Jordan flipped her phone shut. She knew that wasn't what Woody probably wanted to hear, but she didn't know what to tell him herself. She realized that it was really a dual-sided situation. He wanted her, on one hand, but didn't know quite what to do with her on the other. He was frustrated...whether more with her or himself, she didn't know.

But she did know her heart. And she didn't and couldn't want to deal with it being broken again. Tyler had done it. Her father had done it. There wasn't a whole lot of if left and what did remain, she was guarding with her life. Woody may think he wanted her ... cared for her...but when his guard was down last night due to the sleeping pills, the only thing he had tried to do was get rid of her. She didn't now how long it would be before he admitted to himself that she was a mistake. A detour on the road to love and happiness.

She sighed and touched the card in her pocket. It was a nice sentiment. One she would treasure. But now she had to get back to work ... to try and concentrate on the tasks before her.


	3. Too drunk for Anything

Woody slammed his phone down on his desk. _Friends,_ he thought...._just friends. That's what friends do...that's what friends are for...._ Couldn't she see he wanted to be her friend...and a whole lot more? He sighed deeply and tried to concentrate on the pile of paperwork in front of him. He struggled through two hours of it and gave up. His mind wasn't here. It was on a certain female ME. Shrugging under the mental weight of their previous conversation, he gave up. Hell, it was quitting time anyway....Putting on his coat, he headed out the door.

And found his feet taking him right back to the morgue. Hesitating momentarily, he pushed the doors open and went to her office. She was sitting behind her desk, facing her computer. "Hey," he said from the doorway.

She nearly stiffened at his voice. Jordan didn't expect him to see him again today. "Hi, how are you feeling?"

Woody pushed away from the doorframe that he had been leaning against "Still good....I think the pills are out of my system. What are you doing?"

"Finishing up some paperwork for Garrett. He rides my back every time I get behind."

Woody grinned. He knew that Jordan hated paperwork and would put it off as long as she could. "Are you about done?"

"With the paperwork, yes. But I don't get off work until nine."

"Oh. Thought I'd see if you had changed your mind about dinner..."

"Jordan...I need you in autopsy two if you're through with those forms," said Garrett, pausing at her office door. "Oh, hey Woody...are you better?"

"Yeah, fine now. I'll see you later, Jo." Woody held her eyes for a minute. Those eyes...windows to her soul. And right now, for some reason, they seemed to be filled with hurt....he couldn't understand it. Mentally shrugging, he turned to go. Maybe he was just seeing things. Maybe it was disappointment. Maybe she had wanted dinner...Maybe, maybe. He'd call her later tonight and see what was up.

Jordan followed Garrett out the door, changed into her scrubs, and met him in autopsy. "Sorry I interrupted," he apologized to Jordan.

"Interrupted what?"

"It seemed like you and Woody were 'having a moment'. If I knew he was in your office, I would have waited."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Garrett. He just wanted to know if I wanted to go out to dinner and I told him I had to work until nine."

"You should have said yes. I would have let you off."

"Nah. That's okay."

"Is he still trying to thank you for taking care of him the other night?"

"I guess so."

"Didn't he think the roses were enough?"

"I don't guess..." Jordan quickly turned to face Garrett over the autopsy table. "I never said the roses were from Woody," she said, sharply.

"You didn't have to. If a woman stayed with me all night to make sure I was going to be in one piece the next morning, she'd have roses as quickly as I could get them to her."

Jordan digested this bit of information. Quietly, with her head bent down over the body, she asked, "Do you think anyone else knows?"

"Well, I think most of them have put two and two together, but no one really knows for sure but you. Why don't you want anyone to know Woody sent you flowers? I mean, it's common knowledge that you two...well, have feelings for each other."

"I do for him," Jordan admitted in a rare moment of openness for her, even to Garrett, "But I think his has changed for me."

Garrett pulled away from the autopsy and reached for Jordan's arm. Turning her to him, so he could see her face, he took her hands and asked, "What makes you think that?"

To her horror, Jordan could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Glancing down at the floor to regain her composure, and then back at Garrett, she replied. "You know how sleeping pills work, Garrett. They're sort of like alcohol....get enough in your system and your inhibitions are out the window. When I stayed with Woody the other night, the only thing he told me was to leave, go away, get out...he didn't want me there."

"But you stayed."

"I couldn't live with myself if anything had happened to him. I don't know what I would do if anything did."

"And you're not sure what he meant?"

"No, I think I know what he meant." Garrett gave her questioning look. "I think, that deep down inside, Woody knows that a relationship with me would be nothing but trouble. That's why he asked me to leave. I think that in reality, anything I would have with him would be a fling – a temporary thing – and then he'd go find someone else. Someone steadier...without so much baggage...more traditional..."

"And you don't want to risk finding out if this is true?"

"You know my past....you better than anyone Garrett. My heart's been torn apart too many times already. I'm just kind of getting back on my feet emotionally. I don't have a whole lot left to give anyone. And I couldn't handle it if Woody broke my heart. I don't think I'd ever recover. It's just better than we remain friends on some level."

While the admission was brief, Garrett could see it was heartfelt. Her hands were trembling in his. But at least she was coming clean with herself emotionally. Gently squeezing his favorite ME's hands, he said "Go home, Jo. It's okay. I can get Peter or Nigel or Bug to help me here. I had no idea this whole sleeping pill incident bothered you so badly. Get a little rest...take a breather before you have to go to the Pogue tonight, okay?"

Jordan nodded. She didn't trust her voice. Giving Garrett a teary smile she left the room, changed back into her street clothes and went back to her office to get her purse and keys. Glancing at the roses on her desk, she made a quick decision. They were going home with her. She didn't want anyone...Nigel, Lily, anyone ... pawing over them, trying to decide who sent them and why. She would enjoy them in private until, one by one, they faded away. And after that, she would have the card....

* * *

He was well on his way to being , totally drunk. Which had been his goal for the evening. To get drunk and get her off his mind.

And he was half way there. He was drunk. Well and truly drunk. But she was still on his mind. And, according to the bartender, she was due in any minute to take over. He tried to steady himself on the barstool – maybe he could at least look like he was half-way sober. He grinned to himself. That would be an accomplishment. Half-way sobriety.

Woody checked his wristwatch. Squinting at it, he saw it was past nine. She should be waltzing in at any minute....He heard the backdoor slam shut. That would be her.

"Hey, Gordan," he heard her greet the bartender. "How's it going? Looks like a full house tonight."

"It is. The place is packed. But mostly it's regulars."

"Any trouble?"

"None...except for him. And he's not causing any problems...just keeps asking for you. But I think you're going to have to call the man a cab. He's in no condition to drive. Want me to cut him off, or will you make sure you have his keys?" Gordan said, pointing down the bar to Woody.

Jordan caught her breath. _What the hell is he doing here? _She thought. "I'll take care of him, Gor. Don't worry. He won't drive. Don't cut him off, or he may try to leave and then he may hurt himself. What's he drinking?"

"Scotch, neat."

"Water it down. We won't cut him off, but we will change it to a dribble."

"Won't he know?"

Jordan looked Woody over carefully. "No...he's in no condition to know the difference. Did he say why he was drinking so hard?"

"Nope. Just said keep 'em coming."

Jordan sighed. She wondered if it was a case he was working on that was bothering him....she could remember any case they had worked on together that would cause him to go on such a bender...but she hadn't worked closely with him in the last couple of weeks. Their work shifts hadn't been the same.

"You can go home now, if you want. I know you've had a long evening," she said to Gordan, giving the college student a smile. "I know you have stuff you need to do....like study?"

Gordan grinned back at his boss. "Yeah...right...study on a Friday night? Did you ever?"

Jordan's smile widened. "Well...no....but I like to think you're a better student than I was...."

Gordan shook his head and grabbed his coat. "Nope....just a typical one. Night, boss-lady. See you tomorrow."

Jordan watched him leave. He was a good kid...and a responsible one. With Max still gone, she had needed help like him to keep the Pogue up and running. Her attention was continuously divided...the morgue, the bar, and where was her father....and now Woody. She was grateful for employees like him and Marge. Glancing around the bar, she saw everything was under control. Everything but Woody. It wasn't like him to get drunk...not this drunk. She had seen him get tipsy...even a little giddy....but never drunk. It frightened her to think of what was causing this.

Keeping an eye on him, she tended bar. Finally, around midnight, when things were slowing down a bit, she walked over and sat his last watered-down Scotch in front of him. She had handed him one every time he had called for one that evening. Their eyes had met several times, but neither of them had said a word. "Okay, Hoyt. This is it. It's closing time. Finish that and I'm calling you a cab." Jordan rang the bell to indicate the bar was shutting down. Patrons began to settle up their bill and stagger out into the cold night air. She washed up the glasses and wiped everything down. "Need some help?" he asked, his words slurring a bit.

"Nope. I've got it detective. You just sit tight. I'll deal with you in a minute." She helped Marge and Jimmy put the chairs and barstools up. With Marge then checking up the register and Jim mopping the floors, Jordan knew she could let them lock up and she could get Woody home. Looking at the clock and sighing, she saw it was past one in the morning. It would be quicker for her to take him home than wait on a cab.

"Okay, Hoyt, hand them over."

"Hand over what?"

Jordan impatiently tapped her toes on the floor. "You know, you're keys. I don't want to think that once you're home, you may double back and get your car. So cough them up."

"I wouldn't do that...besides how will I get them back tomorrow?"

"Don't worry about that now...just give me your keys."

Woody fumbled around in his pockets for a few minutes. "I can't find them...you know, you could help me look..." he said, giving her a suggestive stare.

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Keep looking...you're pockets aren't that deep."

Woody chuckled and struggled to stand upright. "Oh...here they are," he said, as he deposited them in her outstretched hand. "Now about my cab..."

"Forget it Farm Boy. I'll be here until two if I wait on a cab. I'll drive you home and make sure safe."

Jordan grabbed his trench coat and his arm and escorted him out the door, up the stairs, and into her SUV. That was a struggle. Then she drove him back to his apartment and went through the whole struggle again as she got him into his room.

"Hoyt, I've never seen you so shit-faced in my life. What is wrong with you?"

The night air and the exercise of getting home was now beginning to sober Woody up just a little. "You...you're what's wrong with me."

Jordan was startled at the admission. Alcohol and sleeping pills worked similarly...the inhibitions were down. Wrestling him to the bedroom, she began to help him out of his clothes. "Don't," he said, as she reached for his shirt.

"Woody, you're too drunk to undress...."

"No, I'm not. I'm not that drunk... not as drunk as I need to be....as I want to be." He pushed her hands away as he undid his tie and threw it across the room and then took his shirt off. Jordan felt her mouth go dry as she looked at his bare chest. She began to back her way out of his room. "Yeah, that's right...you need to leave," she heard him say, as his hands fell to his belt and pants.

"I am...leaving," she replied, nearly making it to the door before Woody grabbed her hand.

"Why do you always run?" he asked, still a little unsteady on his feet.

"You just asked me to leave..."

Woody shook his head. "Why don't you admit that there's something between us....something warm, and strong, and...and." He didn't finish. He tugged a surprised Jordan across the small space between them and brought his lips down on hers.

Jordan's head spun. In no way did she expect this. He had her crushed to him, from her breasts to her thighs. And his hands and arms just kept pulling her closer. She put her hands up to push him away...put some space between them, and encountered his bare chest. She felt her breath catch in her throat. _Oh ..._ she thought, her body softening against his hard one.

Woody recognized her reaction and deepened the kiss, gently catching her lower lip with his teeth. Instinctively, she opened her mouth and he deepened the kiss once again, claiming not only her lips and mouth, but her tongue, rubbing it with his. From somewhere in the distance, Jordan heard herself moan. And then heard warning bells go off in her head..._You need to stop...get a grip...this is the Scotch...he doesn't really want this or you..._

And she believed that. She really, truly did. Until she felt his hand run down her back and cup her bottom, running across it possessively. "No..." she said, twisting out of Woody's arms. "Not now... not like this."

Woody reached for her again, only to find that she had put too much space between them. "Not now, Jo? Then when?"

"I don't ....I'm not sure...when ... if. But not now, not like this...not with you drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Yes, you are....even if we wanted to....you couldn't. The whisky..."

Woody looked at his feet, his cheeks reddening. He knew she was right. He may not be really drunk, but he was close...too close to it to effectively follow through with anything he may want. And the last thing he wanted to do was find her in his bed and then not be able to make love to her. Turning away from her, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry," he mumbled, feeling that the apology was totally inadequate...no matter how willing she may have been.

"Get in the bed. Let me make sure you're okay before I leave," she replied softly, walking out of the room quietly and shutting the door. Jordan heard him rustle around the bedroom and then it was still. Gently opening the door, she discovered he had finished undressing and was spread eagle in the bed, sleeping off Johnny Walker. His clothes were in a heap on the floor. She picked them up and hung them in his closet. Walking over to his prone body, she checked to make sure he was fine and would be out most of the night. Placing his car keys on the kitchen counter, she left, vowing not to return to his apartment again...no matter how sick he may be...

Climbing back in her SUV, she made her way home. Switching on the light in her apartment, she saw the roses sitting on the table in her living room. They were still beautiful, giving off that rich, heady smell that roses do as the tight buds were beginning to ease open into blooms. She bent down to smell them...gently touching one of the flowers with her finger. What had Woody been thinking tonight...Well, that was the problem, he wasn't thinking. This time it had been the Scotch. He hadn't told her what was wrong...only that she was the problem. He hadn't really wanted to make love to her tonight...he was frustrated. Any body would have done tonight...hers or anyone else's. Sighing, she got ready for bed. He had pushed her away again....


	4. Hangovers and the Truth

Woody winced at the pain in his head. Slowly and carefully he lifted it up from the pillows, only to find the room spinning in circles. Moaning, he put his hand to his hair and lowered a foot to the floor to reassure himself that, indeed the room itself was not spinning, it was only his head reacting to the night before.

Last night. Oh, God. How much did he drink? He wasn't sure. He just remembered going to the Pogue and telling Gordan to keep the Scotch coming. And the bartender did. Then there was Jordan. She kept them coming, too. How did he get home? He vaguely remembered her bringing him back to his apartment. And her trying to undress him. And then...Oh, damn, he kissed her, didn't he? Though his mouth felt pasty, he could still taste her...and remember how soft she was...Sweet Mary, he didn't, did he? Pulling the covers back and noting his boxers were still there, he sighed with relief. At least he hadn't complicated matters too much.

Gingerly, he got out of bed and noted the alarm clock -- 6:30 a.m. It was Saturday. He didn't have to be in the office until nine. He showered, shaved, and made coffee. Obviously, Jordan didn't stay the night this time, because he had to make his own coffee. The coffee helped clear the rest of the cobwebs from his still groggy mind. Keys...he had let Jordan have his keys...that meant he had to get them back and then go get his car from the Pogue. Groaning, he flipped his cell phone open and hit her number on speed dial.

"Cavanaugh," came her voice clearly over the line.

"Could you say that a little softer?"

Jordan chuckled. She imagined his hangover would be major this morning after the one he tied on last night. "Sorry," she replied. "What can I do for you today, Sunshine?"

"I seem to vaguely remember handing you my keys last night....any idea how I can get them and get my car back?"

Still chuckling, Jordan replied, "Check your kitchen counter. The keys are to the left of your breadbox." She heard Woody shuffle around until he found them.

"Could I possibly get a ride to the Pogue from you and get my car this morning?"

"Sorry. I've been at work since eight...Garrett is off this weekend. I'm in charge today and Bug's in charge tomorrow. Can't leave the office."

Woody sighed. "Could Nigel...?"

"I'll check. Hold on." He heard her ask the Englishman if he could run an errand for her. When she told him what it was, he heard Nigel howl with laughter. A minute later, Jordan was back on the line. "Yeah...Nige said he be there in a minute."

"Did you have to tell him why Jordan?"

"He would have guessed, Wood. He's handed me his keys a few times, too. How are you feeling?"

"How do you think?"

"God-awful?"

"Yeah."

"Well, drink some orange juice, take some aspirin, and..."

"Call you in the morning?"

"You'll be better by lunch."

Jordan was relieved when he hung up. He deserved the hangover he got...anyone that drank that much Scotch did...but if the last thing he remembered was handing her his car keys, then that was good news....he didn't remember kissing her. At least she hoped he didn't. That could make things even more awkward between them. Especially with the way he really felt about her. Softly tapping the eraser of a pencil on her desk, she thought about everything that had happened between them in the last couple of years. There was that kiss in LA...then everything about trying to find her mother's killer...that was enough in itself to provide enough wear and tear on a relationship to leave it in shambles. Looking back, she should have stopped him. She didn't regret following him to LA for a minute...but she never should have kissed him there in the first place. She wasn't sure what came over her...but that had started a string of events that led him right to where he was today. Needing her out of his life, but either not recognizing it yet or not knowing how to how to tell her.

She had been here before...but usually not on the receiving end of a "Dear Jane" letter. Usually she was the one who had fired off the goodbye missive – just as soon as the man got too close – even Tyler. She got rid of , for sure, but still, she had been the one to initiate it. On thing was for certain. She couldn't and wouldn't let Woody know he was breaking her heart. She would, however, maintain a friendship because they had to work together... and seeing him on at least some level was a lot more appealing than not seeing him at all. For now anyway.

"Love, you all right?" came a British voice from her doorway.

Jordan jumped, startled at the interruption of her own thoughts. "Yeah, Nige...sorry, just thinking."

"You must have been really out of it," he said, as he came into her office and perched on the side of her desk facing her. "I called your name four times and you never heard it." He reached out and gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"Did Woody get his car?"

"Uh-huh...What happened?"

"He just really tied one on last night and I made him give me the keys to his car so he wouldn't try to drive. I took him home and he passed out. I knew he was not going anywhere, so I left his keys on the counter."

Nigel chuckled for a moment, then perfectly serious, he asked, "That's really not like Woody...to get totally ripped....I've never seen it happen....Is something wrong?"

"I think so, but I'm not quite sure what to do about it and ....I'm not sure if Woody is aware what it is."

Nigel gave Jordan a pointed look. "And...."

"It's okay...so he's safely back at work?" she replied, changing the subject.

"Delivered to the great and glorious Boston PD without a scratch."

"Thanks Nige," she said as she stood to make her way to Trace Evidence. As she passed by him to go out the door, he called out to her...

"Hey Jordan?"

She turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Think Woodrow will send me roses for taking him home?"

Jordan felt her cheeks turn bright red. Turning on her heel, she strode down the hall, hearing Nigel laugh behind her all the way. Damn Brit.

* * *

For the next three weeks, Jordan saw little of Woody. They either were working different shifts or she didn't catch his calls when he phoned in a homicide. In a way she was relieved. It allowed the tension to die down a little between them ... a tension that was very subtle, but still there. Unless a person knew Jordan and Woody really, really well, he would never suspect there was any problem between the two. They hid any personal issues in the work environment. They may make side comments to each other, it never interfered with the cases...or the victims.As a matter of fact, she was beginning to get a little worried about him...until one Thursday evening he strode into the Pogue near closing time. He sat down on his usual barstool. "Scotch?" Gordan asked him.

"No...give me a beer." Gordan placed the bottle in front of him and went back to wiping glasses. "Is Jordan here?" Woody asked.

"She's in the back...doing inventory. Want me to get her for you?"

"Ummm, no. Do you think she would mind if I went back and talked to her?"

"Don't think so...just don't startle her when you go in...it's dark back there and she may not hear you."

Woody nodded, sat his beer on the bar, and walked back to the storage room. He knocked firmly and opened the door. "Jordan," he called out.

He saw her head pop up over a stack of boxes. "Oh. Hi, Woody," she said, turning her attention back to the clipboard in her hands. "Give me just a minute..." she wrote down a figure and laid the clipboard on the stack of boxes. Sliding her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, she walked over to him. She was wearing a pair of old blue jeans that fit her like a second skin along with a long-sleeved t-shirt. She stopped a few inches away from him and looked up at him. Woody could feel himself melt a little, looking into her eyes. He always did...it was like she saw straight into his soul.

"Something wrong, Wood?" Her voice snapped him out of his reverie. "The Simmons case?" she asked, alluding to the last case they had worked on together. They were having some problems with that one....

"Uh...no. I actually stopped by to tell you that I'm going on vacation for a couple of weeks. I'm leaving all my cases with Lois and Eddie, so if they call you about one of them, it's okay to talk to them."

"Vacation? Where to?"

"Home...I haven't seen my folks in a while."

Kauwanne...Woody was going back to Kauwanne....back to his small Wisconsin-town, with the small town girls that didn't have issues...back to...what was familiar, and warm ...and what he may still want.

"Oh. I know they'll be glad to have some time with you. When are you leaving?"

"I'm flying out tomorrow. I'm going to see the folks for a few days. Then Cal's coming in, so we may do a little fishing...a little hiking..."

Tomorrow. He was leaving tomorrow. So this was goodbye for a while. Getting her voice back, she managed to squeak out, "Sounds like fun. You'll be careful, right?"

Woody smiled down at her. It was hard for him to remember just how tiny Jordan was. She always gave the impression she was much bigger. The truth was, the top of her head barely hit his shoulders. And he would bet, if she would let him, he could just about circle her waist with both of his hands. She looked fragile...but looks were deceiving. She was one of the strongest people he knew. "Yeah," he said, reaching for her hand. "I'll be careful....no sleeping pills, no tea from any little old ladies.....and no Scotch."

Jordan grinned. "That's good. We need you to get to Mama Hoyt in one piece."

Woody laughed. He would love for Jordan to go with him. He knew she had at least five years worth of sick days and vacations days saved up at work...but it was nearly impossible for her to get away from the bar. He knew Max meant well when he left the bar in Jordan's name when he decided to get away for a while. And it had provided her with extra income.

Income that she had no time to spend. Between the morgue and the Pogue, she was consistently tied down. Except for the one Sunday a month she didn't have to work and the bar was always closed on Sunday. _It's no wonder we're drifting apart..._ he thought. _She has no time for anyone...even herself. I wonder if she's noticed the dark circles under her eyes or if she knows how tired she really is?_ He was worried about her...and about them.

"I know Mom will appreciate your efforts," Woody replied.

"Have a great time, Wood. And be careful about old prom dates coming back to haunt you..."

Woody grinned down at her again. "That was a long time ago. I'll have you know that women now appreciate me on many different levels, Dr. Cavanaugh."

"Oh, really...?"

"Yes, really."

"And what would those levels be, Detective Hoyt?" she teased back at him.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"Hmmmm.....I'm not sure."

They both chuckled. It was good to be joking with each other again. Woody missed this exchange with her. The humor they shared seemed to go along way in bringing down any barrier between them. And he loved it when Jordan laughed...especially the deep belly laughs she could give when something struck her especially funny.

"Hey," he said, suddenly serious.

"What?"

"Think I could get a goodbye kiss?"

Jordan hesitated, first thinking about the last kiss they had shared in his bedroom... but then remembered that he didn't recall it because he had been so drunk. Softly smiling at him, she replied, "I guess so...a little one wouldn't hurt."

She leaned forward, eyes, closed, prepared for just a quick peck on the lips. She was surprised when she felt his arms slide around her and tug her to him. _No, not this..._she thought. _This is not good..._That was her last coherent thought for the next few minutes as Woody continued to deepen the kiss and pushed her back against the boxes. When he had kissed her thoroughly, leaving her breathless, he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers while they both steadied their breathing.

"We've got to stop doing this," he murmured in her ear, his lips finding a sensitive spot on her neck.

Unconsciously, she tilted her head to allow him better access. "I know...it can't be good for either one of us..."

"Hm...no," he said, continuing his study of her neck and the hollow at the base of her throat before finding her lips again. "It isn't...it always ends up," he said between kisses, "Like it did that night in my bedroom." He felt Jordan grow still. Pulling away, he pushed a curl behind her ear. "What's wrong?"

"I...I didn't think you remembered that." She felt the heat rise in her cheeks again.

"Jordan, I remember each and every time I kiss you...sober, semi-sober, or completely snackered."

Looking up at him, she echoed his earlier words back to him. "We've got to stop, Woody."

"Why? We're both adults...it's apparent there's some kind of desire here."

"Because...we've just got to."

"No, Jordan. Give me one good reason. We both know a lot of the tension between the two of us is sexual attraction. And there's nothing wrong with that."

"Because it isn't enough...that isn't enough...one or both of us will end of getting hurt..." she looked down at the floor, "And I couldn't handle either one of us hurting."

Woody cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "So that's why you just want to be friends?"

Jordan nodded, still trying to avoid those blue eyes that could leave her tongue-tied. "Yeah..."

Woody was quiet for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. "What brought this on?"

Jordan wasn't about to tell him what he had said to her those nights in his apartment...to go away, she needed to leave...he evidently didn't remember any of that. Maybe, after some time had passed, she could tell him without dissolving into tears. But if she cried now, he may feel sorry for her, and the last thing she wanted from Woody was his pity. That would be the death knell to anything they had – including friendship. "Oh, come on Woody," she finally managed to get out. "We both know that anything between us wouldn't last. So why start something that may ultimately end up biting us in the butt?"

He released her so suddenly she nearly lost her footing and fell. He walked over to the door to leave. With his back still to her, he replied, "If that's the way you feel, Jo....but just one thing."

"What?"

He turned to look at her, his blue eyes slightly glazed, whether with tears or pain or relief, she couldn't tell. "We're friends...always. Forever. Right?"

She nodded. He turned and left.

When she was sure he was gone, when she heard the front door close, she left the storage room and walked into the bar. It was empty now. Gordan, Marge, and the rest of the crew had left, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her pain. She walked over to the front door, locked it, and turned over the closed sign. Going back to the bar, she poured herself a double and let the tears come.

She had done the right thing, letting him go. For herself and him. It would save them even more pain later on. He may not have consciously realized it yet, but she wasn't right for him...He was going back to Wisconsin. Maybe he needed a small-town girl. Maybe he needed Annie again. She swallowed the rest of her whiskey in gulp over that thought. She sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. One thing she did know. She had come to loved him. She had fought it. Hell, she was still fighting it. But because she loved him, she was trying to do what was best for him. And she wasn't the best...at least not for him, anyway. If for anyone.


	5. Work and Worry

Garrett looked across his desk at Jordan. They had just finished the daily staff meeting and now he and she were going over some open cases together...detail by detail, just to see if there was anything they missed. Jordan had her nose buried deep in a file, not noticing her employer was more concerned over how she looked than any obtuse information stuck in a file. Finally, feeling his eyes on her, she looked up. "What?" she asked.

"Are you smoking again?"

Jordan was shocked at the randomness of the question...smoking. She hadn't done that since she was in residency to become a heart surgeon. "No....no. What in the world makes you think that?"

"Weight...your weight. You're losing weight again. You've always lost weight when you smoked."

Absent-mindedly, Jordan touched her stomach. Yes, she had lost weight. She was down several pounds...two pant-sizes if the truth be known. The khakis she had on today were held at the waist by a safety pin that she had bunched all the excess fabric on and fastened. If she didn't do that, the pants would have fallen down. "I know I've dropped a few pounds..." she began. Garrett gave her a sharp look. "Okay, okay, more than a few pounds. But no, I haven't been smoking. Honest."

Garrett was relieved on one hand...she wasn't smoking. "But why are you losing weight? Surely, you're not dieting. Because if you are, I'm calling Stiles and have you treated for eating disorders," he threatened.

"No, Garrett. I'm not dieting. I'm just busy... and you know me when I'm busy...I forget about eating. And I haven't been that hungry lately."

"Maybe you're too busy. Maybe you need some time off. Maybe you need a vacation."

"No... no... please, no, Garret," she was nearly begging now.

"Most people I tell that to are racing for the door and you're begging to stay."

"I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Besides, I can't leave the bar that long."

"What if I promised to watch the Pogue for you while you're gone?"

"Please....Garrett. I promise I'll eat. Regularly. Lots of fattening foods. Just please, no vacation."

Garrett looked his favorite ME over. She was too thin. She was also working too hard. He ran a hand over the back of his head. He was worried about her. She was absorbed in her work...too absorbed. He hadn't even had to beg her for her paper work. It had been submitted on time... in triplicate...neatly.

"So then, what gives, Jor? You're busy...so what? You've always been busy. That's not everything."

Jordan got up and walked over to the window of Garrett's office. "Is this confessional?" she asked, with a wry smile on her lips.

"Sort of...since I'm the only one you'll talk to since Max left."

Jordan mentally gave a cry of pain. The truth was, Garrett was the only one she could talk to since _before_ Max left. She trusted the man with her life. Now he was sitting back in his chair, feet propped on the desk, hands behind his head, waiting for her to begin.

"It's a lot of things..."she started.

"It's Woody," Garrett said, with a tone of finality and knowledge.

Jordan was shocked ... and speechless. Seeing her reaction, he continued. "You've ended the relationship. You're running again...not physically, but you're running again from something. What is it?"

Jordan told him everything that Woody had told her at his apartment ...she needed to leave, get out, go away. "I think that subconsciously Woody knows that we're not right for each other. My problem is I couldn't handle a break up with him....either of us hurting. So I told him that I would rather be friends with him than anything more."

"And how did he react?"

"He asked me if we would always be friends and I told him yes."

"Have you seen him since he got back from Kauwanne?"

"Yes...I've answered a few of his homicide calls."

"No, I mean on a personal level ... one on one without a dead body in between."

"No..."

Garrett sighed. "So how's the friendship thing working? For you, I mean. Just you."

Jordan bit her lip. It was difficult. She had seen him flirt with Lily, who promptly rebuffed it, knowing Jordan's and Woody's history. Devon was different. She was new and didn't know their history. She responded by flirting right back, despite the nasty stares of her co-workers. She could see Woody with someone like Devon...petite, blonde, smart....and no emotional baggage except for her insatiable desire to always be right. Drawing in a shaky breath, she replied, "Some days are good...other days are hell." She turned to her boss and asked, "So...what's a girl to do?"

Garrett smiled at her. "Hang in there. It will get better. And eat."

Jordan sat back down. "Anything else?"

"Trust your heart....and give Woody more credit than you are."

* * *

For the next several months, Jordan and Woody worked together occasionally. He even came back to the Pogue. They talked and joked. But Woody went out of his way not to touch her...nothing even remotely close. Jordan had hoped she would forget how good it felt to be in his arms...how much she missed his kisses...longed for them, and him. But it didn't happen. Unfortunately, it didn't get better, as Garrett had promised. It often was worse.

Doggedly, she kept working...at the morgue and the Pogue. She became absorbed in her cases even more than was usual for Jordan. And the Pogue was now turning a substantial profit. For the first time in years, Jordan should be able to sit back and take it easier. But she couldn't. Not when her emotional life continued to be in such turmoil.

Woody was worried about her. Each time he saw her, she appeared thinner...he had pushed her to go to dinner with him several times. Once in a while, she'd give in, and they'd go out for Mexican or Chinese. She'd eat, but not much. "Hey, what's up?" he asked her once. "You're just pushing the food around on your plate...is something wrong with it?"

"Huh? No...no... just not hungry," she had replied, gamely shoveling in another spoonful in hopes of satisfying him.

Woody gave her a sharp look. Jordan was a lousy liar. He could see right through her. Gently taking her hand, he asked, "What's wrong Jordan? We're still friends...you can still talk to me."

Jordan looked into his eyes – those crystalline blue eyes that still could leave her tongue-tied and weak-kneed. Would that ever stop? Did she ever want it to stop? It was difficult enough to be sitting there with him...especially since he had seemed to go on well with his life. That had been enough to show Jordan that she had done the right thing when she had told him they could be friends and nothing more. Any sexual attraction or anything else he may have had for her seemed to be a thing of the past.

She wished she could say the same thing for her...or at least say she was coping better. She wasn't. The roses he had sent her months before had long since faded and died. She had collected each one as their full blooms went limp and pressed them between the pages of her _Complete Works of William Shakespeare_. Placing them in an antique hatbox she kept in her bedroom, she would often take the lid off to catch a faint fragrance of the roses and re-read the card he had sent.

"Is it your father, Jordan?" he asked. "Is something wrong with Max?"

"Dad? No... not that I'm aware of."

"Have you heard from him?"

"Not lately...once in a while he'll call. He's still not too sure how e-mail works...he was in Ireland last time I heard from him a few weeks ago."

Woody squeezed her hand. Max's leaving had been hard on her – not with just the bar, but he knew Jordan felt emotionally stranded. Max was the only real family of any sort Jordan had. She and her grandmother had never been close. "Look, Jo, if you need me while he's gone...you can still call me. I'll be right there."

"Thanks...I'll remember that," she told him with a small smile. _About two in the morning when I can't sleep because I'm thinking about you._

Woody glanced at her one more time before finishing his meal. When the check came, he took it. "No, Woody, let me get mine," she argued.

"Nope...I still owe you dinner from the time you took care of me after the sleeping pill incident."

Jordan swallowed hard. The event that started this whole mess... "Thanks, Woody. I appreciate it. I'll get it next time?" she asked, indicating the bill.

Smiling at her, Woody replied, "Yeah... next time you're buying." He placed his hand on the small of her back and escorted her to the doors of the restaurant. She could feel sparks on her spine from where his hand rubbed against her. _Jesus,_ she thought. _Is it always going to be like this? This is not good for me._

Once outside, they parted ways. Woody was going home. Jordan was going to the Pogue. Woody started his car and pulled away, watching Jordan get in her SUV in his rearview mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair. He was worried about her. She was working too hard. And when the cold November wind whipped around the side of the restaurant, it nearly blew her against him. She was too thin and she had shivered hard. Finally, not being able to stand it any longer, he punched the morgue's number on his cell phone.

"May I speak to Garrett Macey?" he asked. "It's Detective Hoyt."

A moment later, he was connected with Garrett.

"What's up, Woody?"

"It's Jordan..."

"Is she hurt? What has she done now?"

Woody nearly chuckled...that hadn't changed at least. Jordan still got in trouble.

"No ... she's fine...I think. I just had dinner with her. She's... she's ... I'm just worried about her, Garrett. Is anything wrong?"

Garrett didn't know how to answer that. The detective was part of the reason...but he knew Jordan didn't want Woody to know that. And it really wasn't his place to say. "I think that Jordan just has a lot on her mind right now, Woody."

"Is work going okay for her?"

"Yeah. It is."

"So, it's not work...The Pogue?"

"It seems to be fine, too." Garrett was hoping Woody would put two and two together and cash the check. It wasn't working. But the next question caught him by surprise.

"Is....is.... she seeing someone, Garrett? Has someone hurt her?"

_Oh Lord, how am I supposed to answer that one?_ Garret thought. _No, she isn't seeing 't see anyone as long as she's in love with you...and she hurts because, while she feels she has done what is best for you, she misses you...and wants you._ But he couldn't say that. Not without betraying Jordan...and losing her trust. "Ummm, no. I don't think she's seeing anyone. I haven't heard her mention anyone..." Garrett replied hesitantly.

Woody caught the hesitation. Garrett may not be sure, but he may have his suspicions. "Look, if she tells you anything...you find out what's bothering her, could you let me know? I'm worried about her... really."

Garrett had replied he would and hung up. Woody continued his drive home, but circled back by the Pogue to make sure she got there okay. Her SUV was in her spot and from the window he could see she was tending bar...again. _Damn Max_, he thought. _He needs to get back home...relieve her from some of this_. A sudden thought struck him. If there was someone else, when did she get to see him? All she did was work ... what if it was someone at work? He wracked his brain. Eddie? No...no way she'd go out with him, even if they had let bygones be bygones. That was still a matter of principle. Garrett? He immediately dismissed that thought. The chief ME was a cross between a boss, big brother, and father-figure for Jordan. Bug wasn't even in the picture. Nigel? Maybe...they did have a lot in common. Peter? Now ... maybe Peter. He was good-looking and he was turning out to be a heck of an ME. Tomorrow he'd see if he could corner Lily...or better yet Devon. He could get Devon to spill her guts... all he had to do was roll those blue eyes of his at her, and he'd have the information he wanted.

No, wait. Did he really want it? Did he really want to know if Jordan was seeing someone else? He felt his heart twist. He wasn't sure. She had told him all she desired with him was friendship. And he had tried to comply. He backed off...kept the connection between her either strictly professional for work, or heaven help him, as _brotherly_ as he could. Although any time he looked in her whiskey-colored eyes, the last thing he felt was brotherly. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her off somewhere and show her just how he really felt about her and this whole damned friendship thing. But he was trying to be patient...to allow her to realize how she felt ... maybe this was how she really felt. Maybe all she wanted to be was his friend. Maybe being with him made her nervous...made her remember how things were once between them ... Could have been between them. He groaned. All this thinking was getting him nowhere. He pulled his car into another local bar. It wasn't the Pogue, but the beer was still cold. And that's what he needed right now...a beer.


	6. Max

It was another busy day at the Boston PD. Phones were ringing off the hook and people were everywhere. Eddie Winslow's office was no exception. It was crazy as hell in the office on Monday mornings. Eddie grimaced and looked over at his partner, Woody, who was shuffling through paper work left over from the weekend. He was absorbed by the task. "Hey, Woody, want some coffee?"

"Sure.."

"I'll get you a cup from the break room. I need to get out of here for a minute, okay?"

"Yeah..." He didn't know how far his partner would get, as Eddie's cell phone was ringing in his hip holder as he exited the door. He heard Eddie say "Winslow," and then "Damn." He figured it was another call about one of the weekend arrests when Eddie reappeared in the office doorway, his face as white as the shirt he was wearing. One glance at his partner told Woody something was wrong...gravely wrong.

"What is it Eddie?" Woody asked, his stomach tying itself in knots...if it was Jordan....

Eddie sat down heavily on the couch in their office, motioning for Woody to turn his office chair around so they could face each other. "I just got a call from the Irish ambassador's office in New York," Eddie's voice faltered. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Eddie?"

"It's Max, Woody. He was found dead in his hotel room. They need to know what to do with him...he had left my number as a contact if anything should happen...Jordan doesn't know....I've got to tell her...how?"

Woody felt as if all the air in his lungs had been sucked out. Oh God. How were they going to tell her? What was she going to do? Finally, finding his voice, he said, "I think we need to call Garrett first. Let him tell Nigel, Lily, and the others so they can be there when you tell her."

"You'll be there, too?"

Woody nodded. Jordan would need everyone....he picked up his cell phone and punched in Garrett's number.

* * *

Garrett had discreetly told Peter, Nigel, Bug, and Lily what had happened. Fortunately, Jordan wasn't due into work until lunch that day, giving the other staff time to deal with their emotions. Max was Jordan's father, but all of them had spent many warm hours at his pub...over his table at Thanksgiving ... participating in his role-playing game once a year to solve cold cases. They all had loved him. None of them knew how to tell Jordan...and Garrett was enormously glad that Eddie had the task...he didn't know if he could do that to her...tell her that her father was dead. 

Jordan walked into the morgue around lunch time and went straight to her office and emerged herself in her newest case...never suspecting anything was wrong. A few minutes later, the intercom buzzed on her desk. "Jordan," Garrett's voice came through phone, "Can you please come into my office?" His voice sounded all business...strained...too business like. Slightly apprehensive, she picked up her legal pad and made her way to Garrett's office. Eddie Winslow was there, too. Funny, she didn't have any open cases with Eddie right now...but he looked awfully serious. Woody...her mind jumped to conclusions....did anything happen to Woody? She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Garrett shut the door.

From his position outside Garrett's office, Woody watched her carefully. He had wanted to be in there when Eddie told her, but wasn't sure what her reaction would be. He saw Eddie pull her to the couch and Garrett kneel down in front of her. Eddie took Jordan's hands and told her, as gently as he could, Woody knew, but that still did nothing to soften the blow. The look on Jordan's face was pure shock, then he saw it crumple as she began to sob in pain. Woody never felt so helpless in his life. He saw Eddie try to put his arms around her, but she wouldn't let him, pushing away. Garrett gently tried to hold her, saying something to her....then releasing her. Garrett walked to the door and motioned for Woody. "She wants you," he said to a startled Woody. Woody went in and sat down beside her. It was only then that Jordan allowed someone to take her in their arms and comfort her. Garrett and Eddie cleared out of the office to let Jordan have some privacy.

He held her. Just simply held her and let her sob. He didn't think she was ever going to stop and it scared him. He had never known Jordan to cry...now sobs wracked her thin shoulders, causing her entire body to shudder. Finally, after minutes had passed, she lifted her head from his shoulder. He reached over to Garrett's desk and got a tissue, gently wiping her eyes, but never letting go of her. "What am I going to do?" she asked, looking into his face as he tried to tidy her face. He wished he had answers for her...answers to make her feel better...answers to take away the pain. But he didn't have any of that.

"I don't know, Jo...I don't know. But you'll make it...I know you will."

"Woody, I don't want to right now."

He pulled her back against him. She was still crying. He could feel the tears through his dress shirt. "I know, baby. But you will. And I'll be here for you...anyway you need me...you're not alone." He pulled away and tilted her chin so he could see her face. "I'm here. What do you want to do now?"

"Oh God. What do I need to do? You'd think I'd know, working here....I don't. Lily...I need Lily."

Woody got up off the couch and walked to the door. "Lily?" he said.

The grief counselor was there in a second. "She needs to know what she needs to do...and I do, too," Woody said. Lily went in and sat with Jordan, going over the paperwork required to get Max's body shipped back from Ireland to Boston. A few minutes later, Lily emerged, her eyes red-rimmed and her face wet from crying with her friend.

"I've got her to fill out the paperwork and sign the forms. I'm going to fax them over and I may hear something today. If I do, I'll bring it by her apartment."

"How's she doing?" asked Nigel.

"Not good right now. And that's to be expected. She's asking for you," Lily replied, indicating Woody. Woody walked back in and found her marginally better, trying to pull herself together.

"There's so much to do..." she said when he sat back down and took both her hands in one of his. Her hands ... so small and now they were trembling. "I need to call Dad's brothers and sisters....grandmother....There's the flowers and the minister. The wake...I need a dress." Woody could see the shock wearing off her face. Panic was setting in. He could see it mirrored in her eyes.

"Shhhh". He pulled her back in his arms and softly rubbed her back. "It will be okay." He could feel the tears again. "Let's make a list. You've got a whole group of people waiting outside to help you. All you have to do is tell them what needs to be done." Woody picked up her legal pad. "Now, tell me again, what do you need to do?"

A few minutes later, they had compiled a list. "I guess I need to go home now...start getting things ready. I should tell Garrett that I'll be using some of those personal leave days now..." She was trying so hard to be strong again...

"I think he already knows." Woody helped her up from the couch. She wasn't very steady on her feet. He immediately put his arm around her waist and helped her to the door. She seemed surprised to see Nigel, Peter, Bug, and Eddie still hovering around the office. She held her composure until Nigel hugged her.

"Love, I wish I could do something...something to take away this pain...make it all right again," he said, smoothing back her hair.

"Thanks, Nige. I may need your help before this is all over."

"Anything....anything, love," he said, hugging her close, but looking over her head at Woody. Woody caught the expression. _Don't leave her alone for a minute. Call me if she needs anything at all_.

"Hey Jordan, don't worry about anything...we'll take care of it for you," said Bug.

"Yeah...," agreed Peter, not really knowing what to say, but wanting to do something. He had never seen Jordan this fragile.

Nodding, she thanked them and turned to Garrett, who hugged her hard. "I think I'm going to need some personal time," she said.

"Take it, Jo. Take all the time you need." Garrett turned to Woody. "Call me and let me know how she's doing," he said under his breath, when Jordan had turned to Eddie. "Let me know what I need to do."

Woody nodded, trying to steer Jordan out of the morgue. He felt like she needed to get away...have some time to grieve privately before the myriad of decisions did begin to pile up on her. Eddie hugged her and whispered something in her ear, then turned to Woody. "Take all the time you need. I've got it cleared through the chief and Walcott."

"Thanks. I'll be in touch soon."

Woody got her downstairs and into his car. Suddenly, he didn't know where to take her...His place? Her apartment? Her dad's? "Jo," he asked softly, "Where do you want to go?"

"Dad's. I need to go to Dad's. Everyone will be coming there. I need to get it cleaned."

He looked at her sharply. The panic was there, along with still a good deal of shock. The best thing he could do for her right now was humor her. He had a feeling reality would set in tonight. He made a mental note to call Lily and see if she would stay with Jordan this evening. Jordan may be more comfortable with Lily than him. After all, a lot had happened between them. "Okay," he replied. "I'll take you by your place first to get your things."

The afternoon was a blur. Jordan had picked up her things and they had gone to Max's. Woody had watched her closely, fearing some kind of reaction from her. Instead, when they entered the house, she had sighed. "It doesn't seem like home anymore...since he left for Ireland. I've only been back a few times. But it's funny. It doesn't seem like home, but yet I feel closest to him here .... And the Pogue. Oh, God. I've got to tell Marge and Gordan..."

Woody pulled her to him. "It's okay. Nigel and Lily are notifying everyone. Then they'll call them back once the arrangements are in place."

Paul had come by from St. Inez. He had comforted Jordan the best way he knew how and said he would be in touch soon. Somehow the word had gotten out to neighbors and friends and Jordan was besieged with food and phone calls. Woody could see her trying to keep her composure and remain strong but finally he put his foot down. She needed to rest. She needed privacy. She needed to grieve. After the last neighbor had left, he locked the backdoor, turned off all the downstairs lights, and went to find her. She was curled up on the couch, just staring ahead.

"Hey," he said, sitting down beside her and pulling her to him. She felt like a rag doll...she was simply worn out. "Let's get you ready for bed. I think Lily is coming to stay with you tonight. You don't need to be alone."

Jordan nodded against his chest, but stifled back her sobs. She had hoped he would stay with her...but with things the way they were...she was just glad that he had been with her so long today. She couldn't have made it without him. He held her for a long time....stroking her back and her hair. "Are you hungry? We have enough food to feed an army .. and you need to eat." Woody was worried about her. The next few days were going to be hard on her...the hardest she had really known for a long time. She needed to take care of herself.

She shook her head no. "Not now...I think it would make me sick, Wood. Really. However, I would like a shower...." She pulled away from him and headed upstairs. Woody followed.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, when they reached her bedroom.

"Yeah...I just need some time by myself. Go back downstairs. Fix yourself a sandwich. And I think there's still some coffee in the freezer. A pot would be great." She disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door.


	7. Normalcy?

Events bled into each other during the next few days. Jordan wasn't sure exactly how everything got done, but it did. She did pretty well until she had to definitely identify her father's body. Even though Garrett had softened the task as much as he could – bringing the morgue photograph to the house – it was still difficult. Viewing the body was harder.

Woody was with her the entire time....by her side, or close enough he could hear her just whisper his name if she needed him. She was holding up remarkably well, he noted, as he watched her through the viewing, the wake, and the services. She lost her composure completely at the graveside service, turning to him and once again sobbing quietly on his shoulder. He had to half carry her away when it was time to leave. Her legs were refusing to work. And while everyone had been amazed at her earlier composure, they were equally worried about her present state – fragile – was the word that came to mind.

The wake had been at the Pogue. It had seemed fitting. Max would have liked it. Max would have liked everything, Woody thought – from the police escort to the toasts at his wake. Jordan had taken extra pains to make sure the last, loving thing she could do for him as his daughter was something he would have enjoyed immensely. When she finally got back to Max's house and had told everyone good bye, he pulled her to him. Holding gently, he softly pressed a kiss to her forehead. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm holding on..." she replied, her voice still cracking from unshed tears.

"What would you like to do now? Would you like to get out of here for a while?"

Jordan sighed. That sounded wonderful...just to pretend like everything was back to normal, even for a few minutes, sounded heavenly. "Yes...."

"Where would you like to go...what would you like to do?"

"A walk....I'd like to go to the park and take a walk."

"It's cold outside, Jo." And it was. It was near Thanksgiving....and the air held a hint of snow.

"I don't care... it doesn't have to be a long one...I just need to get out."

"Okay. Dress warmly," he called after her as she went upstairs to change. He went to his car and got some clothes out. Lily had stayed with Jordan the whole week, but Woody knew that she needed to get back to her own place...and if the truth be know, Bug. He told her he would stay with Jordan tonight. Coming back in the house, he went to Max's old room and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. He met her coming out of the room. Looking her over, he approved. Jeans. Shirt. Sweatshirt over that shirt. Socks. Tennis shoes. She would be warm enough.

He followed her downstairs and out the door. She walked briskly until she got to the neighborhood park. Her steps slowed and he kept pace beside her. She walked until she came to a bench beside a playground. She sank down on it and he sat down beside her. "So, Jo. Why here?"

She shrugged. "I never came here as a child. Dad moved into this house about three years after Mom died. So I was too old for playgrounds. But I do remember sneaking out of the house at night to come here and think..."

"Just think...no partying?"

"Believe it or not, no. No partying. I was a fairly serious student, despite some minor discipline problems the nuns seemed to have with me at St. Mary's. Remember, I wanted to be a heart surgeon. I had to make good grades to get into college and then med school."

Others may have found it difficult to picture Jordan as a serious student. He had no problem. He could just imagine her with her solemn eyes and face in her Catholic school girl uniform. The trouble the nuns probably had with her was her constant questioning of authority.

"So you came here to think?"

"Yeah...sometimes I had to get away from the house, Dad ... everything."

"So what are you thinking about now?"

"What to do...."

"About?"

"Everything....the house, the Pogue, the morgue, myself...."

Woody's eyebrows hit his hairline..._herself?_ "And...?"

"I don't know if I should move into the house, sell the house, rent the house...sell the Pogue, or keep the Pogue. If I keep the Pogue, do I work part time at the morgue or no time at the morgue? Become a full time bar owner? Or sell the Pogue and hang on at the morgue until Garrett retires and take his place? Or sell it all, say the hell with everything, and move to St. Thomas? I could do that, you know. There's nothing holding me in Boston anymore."

Woody swallowed hard. What she said was true, as she perceived it...there was nothing holding her here anymore. "But we'd miss you....and you'd miss us."

Jordan sighed. "Yeah, but a part of me wants to start over....fresh...new..."

"You could try that here, couldn't you?"

"I don't know...."

Not satisfied with her answer, he tried another tactic. "Well, remember what Lily tells her clients. 'Don't make any major life-changing decisions during the first year after a death. It's too easy to be ruled by emotions rather than logic'."

Jordan nodded. "I'm not...I'm just going to take it a day at the time for awhile." She shivered. It was getting late and she was getting cold. Woody caught the motion.

"Come on. Let me get you home before you freeze."

"And that would never do, would it?"

"You know, if you'd put on a little weight I wouldn't have to worry so much."

"Jordan rolled her eyes at him. "I eat. I just have a fast metabolism."

"You don't eat like you should..." he continued, but Jordan tuned him out, still wrapped up in her own thoughts about her future. Before she knew it, they were home. She opened the front door and made her way to the fireplace, flipping on the gas logs.

"Come here and get warm," she said to Woody, who was depositing his shoes at the door. He came over and sat down beside her on the floor. It had grown dark outside and there were no lights on except for the kitchen's and the fireplace. It was cozy and warm, and out of habit from the last several days, Woody pulled Jordan against him. She nestled close, glad for his presence. "Thanks," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For being here for me...I couldn't have made it through this last week without you."

He softly kissed the top of her head. "It's okay....you'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely...only I hope I don't have to do it anytime soon."

Woody smiled in her hair. He didn't either...he wished he didn't have to go through this with her. Without Max, Jordan was, in a way, rudderless. He left her the bar to teach her responsibility and not to run. That had worked well. But Woody was sure that Max had planned to return at sometime and take the bar back...relieve Jordan of that responsibility. But he had a heart attack in Ireland....Now his daughter was attempting to face her future alone...bravely. He wished he could somehow let her know she didn't have to do it by herself. He was there. He'd always be there for her. "You sleepy?" he asked, noticing how even her soft breathing had become.

"A little."

"Go to bed. I'll straighten up down here and be up in a minute."

Jordan stiffened in his arms. "Lily?"

"I told her to stay home tonight. She's been here the whole week. I think Bug kind of misses her."

"Bug?"

Woody chuckled. "I thought you knew....they've been seeing each other for a while now. They kept it under wraps for several months, but now nearly everyone knows."

"No....I had no idea.....I guess I've kind of been...."

"Busy?"

"Too busy, it seems. Lily should have said something....I could have stayed by myself."

Woody didn't answer her. He just held her, wondering how long Jordan was going to let this go on before she reverted back to being "just friends." He was savoring the moment....trying to remember her scent, the feel of her against him, even the way her tears warmed the front of his shirt when they fell. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on her for a moment. Then releasing her, said, "Go get ready for bed. You're wiped out." Jordan stood and reached for his hand, pulling him up beside her.

"Go home, Woody," she said.

"Home?" he asked, slightly stupefied at her request.

"Yes, home. You know...your apartment. You've been great the whole week, but I know you've got things to do and that you've got to go to work tomorrow. So go home. Get some rest."

"You'll come with me?"

Jordan shook her head. "No. I'll stay here or go home to my apartment. It's just time for life to somehow get back to normal. I've taken up enough of everyone's time, including yours."

"No...I don't want to leave you alone yet...."

"I'll be fine. Honestly. You've gone above and beyond the call of duty as a friend."

_So I have my answer_, he thought. _Now that it's all over, she wants to go back being just friends again. How am I supposed to do this?_

You just do, said the little voice in his head. You keep doing it until you think of a way to convince her otherwise....or she makes up her mind that she wants to be more than friends. So get a grip and carry on.

"Jordan, I don't like this idea..."

"It wouldn't be the first time you didn't like one of my ideas," she said with a grin. "But it's time ...time for you to go home and me to learn to be totally on my own."

He gazed down into those whiskey-colored eyes. He could still see pain...from the death of her father....the changes in her life....He didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay with her and reassure her she didn't have to do this alone...he was there. He'd always be there. But the stubborn tilt to her chin told him she was standing her ground. With a sigh of defeat, he went and slid on his shoes. "Okay....but you call me before you go to sleep and first thing in the morning, you hear?"

"Yes sir," Jordan replied, mock saluting. Then seeing him to the door, and allowing him one more hug, she was left alone...which was what she wanted. She needed time. Time to think about what she was going to do...how was she going to manage herself ... and the feelings she still had for Woody. She went upstairs and got ready for bed. Climbing between the sheets, she remembered her promise and dialed his number. She heard him mumble "Hello."

"Hey sleepy head. It's me. You asleep?"

"No...not really. Watching the news....worrying about you."

"I'm fine, Wood. Go to sleep. Good night."

She heard him say good night and hang up. She loved him...no denying that. But this only being friends issue was wearing her out. She had wanted him to stay tonight, but knew if he did, she would end up wanting him to sleep with her. Not for sex, but just to be close to him...to have him hold her all night. But while that might be what she needed, it wasn't what he needed. The sooner things got back to normal, the better for him. She would always love him...and for that reason have his best interests at heart. But she wasn't the best thing for him, and she had to constantly remind herself of that. Now she had even more stuff to deal with....the death of her father. And with the holidays coming up, it was going to become even more difficult. Jordan shut her eyes and willed herself not to cry. Stuff it down, hold it back...it will get better, it has to, she kept repeating to herself until she fell asleep.


	8. A Boston Blackout

The weeks dragged by for Jordan. Thanksgiving came...a holiday that Jordan normally spent with her father. Her grandmother had phoned and invited her to dinner. Jordan went, but may as well have stayed home. That part of her life – her mother's side – was foreign to her. She drove home numb, stopping by the cemetery to place some flowers on both of her parents' graves. It was the first time she had been back since her father's funeral.

She immersed herself back in her work...and then Christmas shopping. She took the money she would have normally spent on her father and made a donation in his memory to the Boston PD's Family Fund. She received a gracious letter from the chief of police in return. Leaving work early one night, she found herself at the mall, along with hundreds of other Christmas shoppers. It was the first night in nearly a year she had not gone into the Pogue when she was supposed to. She was struggling with what to buy her co-workers. She was even more puzzled about what to buy Woody. _What do you buy a man that is supposed to be just your friend, but is so much more in your heart?_ She thought. She was looking at a selection of shirts and tasteful ties when she heard a soft voice whisper in her ear, "Have you seen Santa yet?" Looking up, she saw a pair of blue eyes staring back at her...Woody. She hadn't seen him but a few times since Max's services. She had returned to the morgue and buried herself in her work...her way of dealing with her grief. Woody had known that and had respectfully kept his distance, knowing she would come around when she had coped. He had called...dropped by to see her at the Pogue, always letting her know that he was there if she needed to talk. But he hadn't pushed her. For that, she was grateful. Suddenly, she was very glad to see him.

"No....but I think I'm a little old to be sitting on his lap."

"I don't know, Jordan. Santa might enjoy it," he replied, wagging his eyebrows suggestively at her. "Maybe I could pretend to be Santa..."

Jordan gave him a half-hearted push. "Don't start with me, Hoyt."

"So...finishing up your shopping?"

"Trying to. A certain detective is proving very hard to buy for."

Woody chuckled. "No shirts and ties, please. That is so cliché. Besides you have awful taste in ties."

"I have awful taste in ties? Look who's talking..."

They laughed together...Woody was glad to see Jordan at least a little light hearted. Garrett had told him she was back to being busy...too busy, but that was her way of dealing with everything. "Have you had dinner, yet?" he asked.

Truth was, Jordan wasn't hungry. She had a Starbucks Venti Vanilla Latte earlier, but she wanted to be with Woody tonight...not let him slip away in the shopping crowd. "No," she replied, "not yet."

"Then let's go grab a burger or something upstairs."

They found themselves in the food court. Not exactly the coziest place for conversation, but neither cared at the moment. Jordan just wanted to be with Woody. Woody wanted to make sure Jordan ate something and to see how she was doing. There were soft circles under her eyes, silent testimonies to some nights of sleeplessness. She was still thin, but didn't appear to have lost anymore weight. While they ate, they caught up on each other. Woody took her hand in his. "Are you sure you're doing okay, Jo?"

Jordan shook her head. "I have good days and bad days. But I'm dealing with it...the fact that Dad won't be coming back...that he's gone, like Mom. Mainly, I just try to stay busy and not feel...anything."

"It's not good to keep all that bottled up inside you."

"I'm doing okay...it will all be fine, Woody. Honestly. Dad wouldn't want me moping around."

"You know I'm here if you need to talk...."

"I know. But you've done so much already. I hate to ask you for anything else."

"That's what friends are for, Jordan," Woody replied, deliberately using her own words on her, gauging her reaction. She looked down at her partially eaten cheeseburger, not meeting his eyes. _Ouch_, she thought. _But at least he's moved on...he's not hanging on expecting anything more._ Somehow the thought wasn't quite as comforting as she once thought it would be. It hurt. A lot.

"You know you can call me," he continued. She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment. "I don't mind...day or night, Jordan. If you need me..."

"I'm...I'm...going to be okay Woody," she replied, suddenly finding her voice. This was getting too hard...pretending to just be his friend. No...it wasn't pretending. She was his friend...but she remembered too much...and that any relationship with her could probably only hurt him...and her. She needed to get out of here...leave...go home. She glanced down at her watch. "I need to go, Woody. I promised Marge I'd stop by before they closed." That was a fib. Marge had told her if she so much as showed her face in the bar tonight, she'd spank her.

Woody rose with her and took her shopping bags. "Let me walk you to your car. It's late and it's dark and you don't need to be walking out by yourself." He followed her down the escalators and to the doors of the mall. A frigidly cold wind greeted them as well as stinging participation. Looking up through the parking lot lights, Jordan could see it...sleet and ice.

"Damn... it must have started doing this right after we got here," said Woody, frowning. "There's about a quarter inch of the stuff on the ground. Traffic patrol is going to love this tonight...."

Jordan pulled her coat closer to her. She could drive on snow ... but ice scared her. Still, she needed to make it home. "Are you on duty tonight?" she asked Woody.

"No... I have the next couple of days off. I can't go home for Christmas, so I'm going to work for some of the guys then. I have my holiday time off now."

"I hate to ask you this, but would you mind taking me home? I can't drive in this stuff."

"Sure...but let's take your SUV. You've got four-wheel drive."

Jordan nodded and handed him her keys. They slipped and slid out to her vehicle. "Where are you at, Jordan? Your apartment or your dad's?"

"Dad's." Jordan was glad tonight she was still there. It was closer to the mall, and she had the gas logs if the power went out.

Neither one of them said much on the way back to Max's. Woody concentrated on the road. Jordan didn't want to distract them. The sleet and ice pelted down harder and harder, making driving more and more difficult. They finally reached the house and Woody helped Jordan into the front door. "I'll take you back for your car tomorrow," she promised.

"That's fine," Woody began. He really didn't want to leave her here by herself in this storm, but knew that any suggestion he had of staying the night would probably be rebuffed all in the sake of friendship. He was trying to come up with another tactic to approach Jordan with when his prayers were answered....there was a sharp crack and the power went out.

"Shit!" said Jordan. "Dad doesn't have a generator or anything." Woody could hear her rummaging around the kitchen for something.

"Where did you go?" he asked, reaching out in the dark air and not finding her there.

"I'm in the kitchen at the counter....I have some candles and matches somewhere." A few minutes and expletives later, Woody heard a match strike and the kitchen was bathed in the glow of a candle. "You know, if it wasn't such nasty weather, this would be down right romantic," she joked. She lit another candle and handed it to Woody. He took it and went to the back door. The trees were already bending with the burden of ice and he could hear sirens going off. The roads were getting bad. Jordan had come up behind him, wordlessly making the same observations.

"The roads are too bad for you to go home, Wood... I'd worry myself sick. Stay here tonight, please."

Woody sighed. Trying to keep the mood light-hearted, he replied, "Well, since you said _please_..."

Jordan chuckled. The sleet and ice were not letting up. It was coming down even harder. "Come back in. You're letting all the warm air out."

Woody shut the door. "I can take Max's room or the couch in the living room...which ever would make you more comfortable."

Jordan swallowed hard. It looked like her secret wish was going to come true. "I think both of us are going to be on the couch, Woody...the gas logs are in the living room and that's the only source of heat I have right now." He would be sleeping with her tonight.

* * *

Woody looked at Jordan, curled up in a tight ball on one end of the couch. She had made herself as small as possible in order to give his six-foot plus frame most of the room. _She can't be comfortable, _he thought, wincing as he noticed the angle of her neck. She wouldn't be able to move tomorrow. He shifted uncomfortably. Neither would he...the air was warm, but the accommodations were less than adequate. Making a decision, he softly got up and padded upstairs to Jordan's bedroom. He grabbed the comforter, blankets, pillows, sheets, and a quilt off the end of the bed and came back down stairs. He carefully laid them out in front of the fireplace and fluffed the pillows. Then he reached for Jordan, cradling her in his arms and lowering her to the blankets. She awoke with a start when her back hit the cool sheets. "Wha?" she murmured, unconsciously turning her head closer into Woody's shoulder and snuggling closer.

"The couch's too small...I made us a bed on the floor."

Jordan seemed to go right back to sleep the minute Woody laid her back down. He noticed with satisfaction that she stretched out before dozing back off. He pulled the covers up over her and lay down next to her. He wasn't sleepy anymore. He could still hear the ice and sleet coming down. _I may not get home tomorrow, either_, he thought. Not that he was complaining. If he had to be iced in....this was the way to do it. He looked over at Jordan and grinned. Maybe...just maybe the gods of fate had dealt him a winning hand this time...as long as she didn't have a flush, he may just win the pot this time. She was sleeping soundly, completely oblivious to his thoughts. Quietly he turned on his side towards her. Her back was to him...gently he reached out and pulled her back to his chest, spooning her next to him. God, she smelled good. This felt so right...he had missed her so much. But he had to give her time to grieve...time to get back on her feet.

But the power was out...and it was cold... and it was dark...and she couldn't accuse him of anything other than making sure she was safe and warm. Pulling her just a little closer, he possessively wrapped his arm around her waist and dozed off to sleep.

* * *

Jordan woke up first, just a little puzzled over why she was in the floor. Then she remembered...the sleet, no power...Woody....She tried to get up, but the heavy arm around her waist kept her pinned next to him. Not wanting to disturb him, she stopped and lay back down. _No sense in waking him up..._ she thought, logically. _I mean there's nothing to do...the power is still out. The sleet is still coming down..._She knew Woody was still asleep. His deep breathing gave that fact away. He hadn't even so much as grunted when she tried to sit up.

_Now's your chance,_ her brain told her. _This could be the only one. You've wanted him to hold you for so long...now you can have that happen and he won't have to know about it. Or if he finds out, you both can just blame it on the weather and the power company. _Jordan hesitated. She had wanted to be back in his arms since...since...since that damned good bye kiss at the Pogue months ago... last spring. She had fought the feeling with everything she had. She knew that any relationship she may have with Woody was probably doomed to failure and years of regret, but damn it, she wanted this now... Let her have this...the feeling...the memory of just being held by the man she loved. Swallowing hard and pulling her courage around her, she gently rolled over, laid her head on his chest, and wrapped _her_ arms around _him._ Then she held her breath, hoping she hadn't woke him up...she could always feign sleep if he asked her questions... but she didn't want to lie to him. Relieved when all she heard was the sound of his deep, steady breathing and thump of his heart, she smiled and went back to sleep.

Woody had woken up the minute he felt her turn over. He assumed she was getting up, but was shocked nearly out of his mind when Jordan had laid back down with her head on his chest, snuggling closer to him. He remained still until he felt her settle down and drift back off to sleep. It was only then he looked down at her sleeping figure. She was resting...resting well. Maybe that would help erase some of the dark circles under her eyes. Maybe she could sleep, knowing she was safe...he was there. Although, he thought, moving uncomfortably, he wondered just how safe she was...He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer, shifting her a little to one side so if she woke up she wouldn't noticed his very physical reaction to having her sleep on top of him. He felt her readjust herself. _Oh, no. Her legs...my thigh._ Jordan had shifted so that her legs were now straddling his thighs. He bit back a moan. Even though she was wearing her boxers....Finally, getting his emotions under control, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. _One thing is for certain...it's going to be an interesting evening...especially if she can read my mind._


	9. The First Time

There was a sharp popping sound outside the window, loud enough that it woke Jordan and Woody at the same time. Jordan jerked awake, only to find herself held firmly in place by two muscular arms. For a moment, she couldn't figure out why she was there, on top of Woody...then she remembered and felt her face begin to flush. "Good morning," she heard his voice whisper over the top of her head.

"Good ....morning," she replied, feeling him shift beneath her. "What was that?"

"The noise? Probably tree branches falling." Woody pulled the blankets up tighter around them, not letting Jordan get chilled in the early morning air.

"What time is it?"

Woody glanced at his wristwatch. "Hmmm...about five in the morning. How did you sleep?"

"Good. You?"

Woody let out a very masculine chuckle... "Let's see....I spent the night at Jordan Cavanaugh's house, on the floor, with her in my arms...all night...I would say my night was very good...very, very good."

Jordan felt her checks flush even more. "Woody..."she warned.

He laughed harder and tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eyes. "Did you stay warm enough?" He was looking at her closely in the early morning light. She nodded. "I only have one thing to say about these sleeping arrangements," he continued. "If I can't get home today, and by the looks of things, I'm not going to be able to, tonight," he said, getting a grip on Jordan's waist and rolling her over, "You're on the hard floor."

Jordan caught her breath. He had deliberately rolled her beneath him and now had her pinned to the floor with his hard thighs. He balanced the rest of his weight on his arms and elbows that were on either side of her head. In short, she was trapped between his hard body and the hard floor.

Woody looked down at her, first wanting just to get a laugh out of her...or an indignant reply. Instead, as he looked in her eyes, he caught a glimpse of a very different Jordan. One that was hesitant, vulnerable...warm...before he could stop himself, he lowered his lips and gently brushed them against hers. Once, twice, three times.... He drew back and looked at her again. Then he lowered his lips again and felt her respond immediately.

All the months of wanting him, but feeling like she couldn't have him...that he deserved more, slipped by her mind like sand through her fingers – they were gone. The only thing she was aware of was him. Him on top of her and his lips on hers, tenderly coaxing them apart. She felt his tongue brush against her lower lip and then his teeth caught it, gently opening her mouth for him. When he rubbed his tongue against hers, she was lost...she gave herself up to the feelings of him and for him and just responded. Yes, she'd may regret it later....but hell, she had a lot of regrets. Somehow she didn't think making love to Woody would be in the top ten..._Making love to Woody_, she thought...._Do I really want to do this? To him...to me?_ His lips moved to find that sensitive curve between her neck and her shoulder. _Yes...yes, I do...God forgive me, I do._

Woody felt her arch against him when his lips hit the sensitive spot on her neck. He pulled her close for a minute, then gently lowered her hips back down on the sheets, holding them there with his. He wasn't going to rush this...he wanted to savor every moment...remember everything about this...their first time...and he wanted to give her time to back out if she decided she didn't want to at the last minute. She had been through a lot in the last months...he didn't want her to be with him out of anything else except the fact she wanted to...that she wanted this as much as he did.

The minutes hung between them as they kissed. When he reached for the edge of her tank top, he paused and looked at her. Her hair was all spread out on the pillow and her lips were soft from his kisses. _If I died right now, I'd die a happy man_, he thought. Wordlessly, she raised her arms and he pulled her top off, pausing to look at her before he kissed her again. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" he said, thinking that he sounded like someone from one of the sappy movies on the LifeTime channel. Funny, he didn't feel sappy. That was just the way it was. She was beautiful.

She shook her head no...In fact, no one had...not Tyler, not anyone. And since she had moved to Boston, there hadn't been anyone in her life...no one except Woody...whose caresses were now eliciting moans from her...they had to be from her...she could feel them building up in the back of her throat. She reached up and ran her hands through his hair, holding him to her. She felt him shift his weight over to her side and he propped himself up on an elbow. "No..." she managed to get out...

"No?" Woody wanted to make sure he was hearing right...did she want to stop this?

"No...don't leave me."

Now he understood. When he slid off her, she thought he was leaving... "I'm not, sweetheart." He cupped her face and turned it to him. "Not unless you want me to."

She shook her head. "No..."

He softly traced her lips with his finger. "Are you positive?"

She kissed the tip of his finger. "Yes..."

Woody smiled at her and let his finger slide down off her lips, down her chin to the soft hollow between her collarbones. Then it softly stroked over each breast, causing them to tighten. Then he retraced the same route with his lips. Jordan squeezed her eyes shut and moaned... _He's killing me...softly and he's enjoying every minute of it._ She cracked her eyes back opened and began her own exploration of his chest ... something she had wanted to do when she saw him take his shirt of in his bedroom that night he was drunk....She ran her hands over his pecs, feeling them respond and heard his breath hitch for a change. He looked down at her...

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," she said mischievously.

"Hmm..." was his only reply as he lowered his lips to her flat stomach, kissing his way down to her belly button. When he hit that area, Jordan flinched. Woody smiled against her tummy... "You're ticklish," he said, amused by the thought. Some ticklish seemed almost too much of a girlie thing for Jordan. To make sure he was right, he kissed her there again. Once again, she flinched.

"Woody....tickling is a form of torture, you know."

"I'll remember that...."

"So will I," she replied sliding her hands down his taunt abdomen and poking it. She was rewarded when she felt him flinch equally as hard.

"Okay....truce," he said, becoming interested in the waist band of her girl boxers. He tugged at them and felt her arch up off the floor enough to allow him to take them off. He bent over and kissed her again. "Jordan?" It was the question...she knew what he was asking without him having to ask it. She looked into his eyes, suddenly just a little shy about being completely naked in his arms...but the look in his eyes caught her breath. It was more than passion....more than desire...more than lust....she had seen those emotions mirrored in other men's eyes before....this was different. She reached up and pulled him down for another kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Yes," she whispered softly in his ear...He kicked off his boxers.

He took his own sweet time...touching her here...stroking her there. When at last she couldn't stand anymore, she arched up against him, showing him how much she needed him..."Woody...please...now?" she softly moaned.

And he obliged, entering her all at once, without hesitation, moving at first slowly, then faster as he felt her response.

Jordan wasn't aware of any of her world out side of _him_ and what he was doing to her...how he was making her feel. She could feel him pushing her closer and closer to the edge...and when it happened, she felt herself tighten around him hard and could have sworn she saw flashes of pure white light from beneath her closed eyelids.

Woody heard her voice catch in the back of her throat and felt her response. He felt her when he pushed her over that first edge....Not allowing her to catch her breath, or have second thoughts, he just pushed her up to the next level. And this time they both went over the edge together, their bodies slamming into each other. He felt her shiver, and knew it wasn't from the cold. He held her tightly to him, neither one of them saying anything for the next several minutes, waiting for their breathing to return to normal...for their voices to steady. Jordan made no move to untangle her legs from Woody's and he felt the same way...wanting to be with her as long as he could... as long as she would let him. Finally he heard her sigh softly and then clear her throat.

"Woody?"

"Um-hmmm," he replied, taking a sudden interest in kissing that sensitive spot on her shoulder again.

"That was...."

She heard him chuckle. "Was what?" he asked.

"Does incredible sound to cliché?"

He pulled up and looked at her. "Not if it's the truth."

She nodded. "It is..." She felt him take each of her hands in his, intertwining the fingers together beside her head.

"So I take it you would do this again?"

Jordan's head whirled...she couldn't...not again....this wasn't the best thing for him....she had been thinking only of herself...they both were going to end up being hurt...

But right now, nothing hurt. She still had that tingly feeling that Woody gave her....although her legs were still slightly numb.....she could only remember how right making love to Woody felt. Against her brain's better wishes, her heart answered ... "When?"

Woody chuckled again and moved over her. "How about now?"


	10. There's Got to Be a Morning After

Woody rolled over and stretched, hearing his joints pop and creak. He was getting too old to sleep on the floor anymore...although sleeping on the floor with Jordan ... making love with her on the floor...that more than offset any discomfort he may have.

He looked over at her still-sleeping figure. She was out of it – and probably would be for a while. He reached beside the blankets and pulled on his boxers. Then tucking the blankets snugly around her, he got up, careful not to disturb her. It was still early.... No later than eight, he would imagine. He wasn't sure if she had to go into work today nor not...he'd ask in a few minutes. He put on a pot of coffee and looked out the front window. Ice was everywhere. Branches were on the lines....trees were down....but this was Boston. The city knew how to cope. Unless he missed his guess, Jordan would probably have power by the end of the day...

In the other room, Jordan sat up on the blankets...suddenly aware that she was alone. She heard him in the kitchen making coffee...for that, she was thankful. But what had she done last night? And why had she done it? Her cheeks blushed...she had slept with Woody....really slept with Woody. How could she? After all this time, knowing that any type of relationship with him could only lead to them hurting each other, she had made love _with Woody_...when she promised herself she wouldn't...What was he thinking of her now? She hid her face in her hands. How could she do this to him....to herself? She loved him....she wanted what was best for him...and she knew that she wasn't it. So what had she done? Complicated the friendship immensely just because she couldn't get a grip on her hormones. She felt tears come to her eyes. For one night of pleasure, she may have just compromised her ability to see him for the rest of her life....What was she thinking?

She hadn't been, that was it. Her body had been craving him as badly as any addict did a fix. She remembered his kisses and caresses...She remembered how safe she felt when he held her...even when she was dealing with her father's death, just his presence made her feel like she was going to be okay...that everything would still be all right...She wrapped a blanket around her still naked body and went to find him...she had to set this straight. _Please, dear God, let me be able to keep his friendship_, she thought.

She found him in the kitchen, drinking coffee, clad in his boxers, the cold air not seeming to affect him.

"Good morning," he greeted her. "Coffee?"

She nodded and he handed her a mug. Careful not to trip over the blanket, she poured herself a cup and sat down at the table with him. Woody took her hand. "How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"Fine," she said in a small voice, not really knowing how to address the issue.

"I think you'll have power by mid-day, early evening at the latest. Do you have to work today?"

That was it....her out. She could go into work, even though Garrett would have a fit that she came out in this weather. "Yes...I do."

"Get dressed and I'll get you there....I'll have Eddie swing me back by the mall to get my car."

Jordan finished off her coffee with a gulp. "Okay...Thanks Woody."

Wood came over to where she was sitting and pulled her up to him. "It's okay, Jo. Glad to do it." He had noticed things were a little stilted....stressed between them this morning. He figured that it was because she didn't know how to handle the morning after with him. Trying to put her mind at ease, he pulled her to him and kissed her gently. "Go get dressed. I'll be down here waiting."

Jordan pushed away and nearly ran upstairs. Taking a quick and cold shower, she changed and came back down. Woody was neatly folding up the sheets and blankets from the floor. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. They drove to the morgue in silence.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Garrett. "Do you know how bad the roads are? Do you know you could have had an accident on the way in?"

Jordan straightened her shoulders at the chief ME's onslaught. Garrett meant well and was protective, but honestly, sometimes he over did it and didn't give her common sense enough credit. "I didn't drive, Garrett. Woody brought me."

She saw his grim expression soften a bit. "Oh...well in that case, let's get busy. There's a gunshot in two and a beating in one. Take your pick."

Not wanting anything really complicated this morning, she said "I'll take behind what's door number two."

Garrett handed her the file. "You driving yourself home?"

"Yes."

"Don't leave any later than three....the roads will be freezing back."

Jordan set to work. That's what she needed now...work. Anything to keep her hands and mind busy...and off Woody, and off what happened last night. Slowly, precisely, and methodically she did the autopsy and her report. Around two she stuck her head in Garrett's office. "Can I leave now?" she asked.

"Sure...things are a little slow. Go ahead and head home. Just be careful, hear?"

"Will do." She gave Garrett a wave and headed to her SUV. She was going back to her Dad's, retrieve her things, and head back to her apartment. It was time to get completely back to normal....back to routine....back to being friends with Woody. And she was afraid if she stayed in the house and had to look at that living room floor everyday, she would constantly be reminded of how he felt...how she felt...how he made her feel. She wasn't up to that.

A couple hours later, her mission was accomplished. She was back on Pearle Street. She spent the rest of the afternoon absent-mindedly listening to the weather reports on TV and cleaning her apartment. She hadn't been back there since Max's death. The furniture was dusty and the kitchen needed a once over. She was getting ready to go do laundry when there was a knock at the door. She wasn't surprised. She knew he'd be back at some time today. She opened her door and sure enough, there stood Woody.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be back at your Dad's."

"Good evening to you, too, detective..."

"I mean...you didn't tell me you were coming here..."

"Sorry. I didn't realize I had to tell you where I'd be."

Woody winced. She was angry. Did she regret last night? She didn't seem to then...she had been warm, responsive...just as hungry as he had been. Had she changed her mind today? "What is it Jo? What's the matter?"

"Last night..."

So that was it. He came into the apartment and closed the door. Leaning back against it with his arms crossed, he asked, "What about it?"

"We can't do it again."

He pushed away from the door and walked over to where she was at. Running his hands down her arms, he asked, "Why?"

"Because....we're friends, Wood. Sex just messes things up."

Woody ran his fingers through his hair and turned away from her. He was angry now. _Damn this friendship issue with her..._

"So as long as we're _friends_, we can't have this feeling between us?"

"It's not good for either one of us. You know that. One of us would end up getting hurt...or both of us."

"I would never hurt you, Jordan Cavanaugh."

"You say that now....what about when you discover that this isn't right for us... for you? That you need someone else?"

Woody saw red. He had never been as angry with Jordan as he was right now...even with all the trouble she had gotten him in in the past. He turned back around to face her. "You think so little of me ....that I would dump you...hurt you, if I found someone else?"

Jordan drew back. She hadn't thought about that before. Hoping to calm him down, soften the atmosphere just at little, she replied, "No... No, Woody, it's not like that...I just mean that you don't need me in your life like this...I'm haven't been anything but a problem for you. Sex just complicates it even more....It would end up hurting the both of us. So let's try to avoid the situation."

"You want to be just _friends_," he put a sneering emphasis on the word, looking at her coldly. "Is that what you want? _Friends with benefits? _I never figured you for a tease, Jordan."

She was shocked...she hadn't meant it like that. She was trying to look out for his best... "No...you've got this all wrong."

"Then explain it to me."

"I want to be your friend...and I need you to be mine. If we start any other type of relationship...and especially if sex is involved, when the relationship is over, the friendship is gone, too. And I couldn't deal without you in my life on some level, Woody. I couldn't."

Woody was confused. He couldn't see where she was going with this argument. But right now, more than anything else, he was angry. He had felt her response to him in his arms last night. He had heard her – every soft moan, every time she caught her breath...every word she had whispered to him. That wasn't friendship, no matter how much she protested otherwise. She was in love with him and he knew it. Now it was a matter of getting her to realize it – and not be so damned afraid of it. Why should she be afraid to love him? He would never hurt her...he wasn't like Tyler...or any of the others...Didn't she know that? That made him even more angry.

Turning away from her once again, he headed for the door. He needed to leave before he said something he would regret... "Okay, Jordan, have it your way...since you do with everything else concerning us anyway..."

"Woody?" Her voice sounded hurt.

"I'll work with you, Jordan. Go out on cases and calls and come in for autopsies. I'll drink my beer at the Pogue and stay the hell out of your bed. I'll be your _friend_, for Christ's sake. But where I come from, we don't call each other _friends _in these situations."

"Woody..."

"We call each other lovers." And with that he left her apartment, slamming the door behind him.


	11. It Wasn't Him

Winter was becoming like one great, big sinus headache...long and painful. Or so Jordan thought, looking out of her office window. It was now the end of January. The weather was reflecting her mood – gray and wet. It seemed like it had managed to snow, rain, or ice almost everyday since Woody had slammed his way out of her apartment.

To others, except perhaps Garrett, it seemed like nothing was wrong between them. They worked together, joked together, drank beer together at the Pogue. But on occasion, when it was either just the two of them, or when they could exchange close glances, she felt his anger...the tension...and hell, the longing. Sometimes he would look at her and she could feel the..._heat_ from his gaze. Like he was looking all the way through her..._remembering_...She would do her best to leave the room then, for it started her own emotions spiraling in a downward motion of longing she knew could no longer be fulfilled.

Christmas had come and gone...the first without her father. She had harbored the hope that Woody would relent just a little in his irritation with her and agree to spend the holiday together. He hadn't. She wasn't sure where he had been...maybe he had to work, since he took his days off early...maybe he just didn't want to see her...She had bought him a leather jacket for Christmas. The leather was a soft as butter and it smelt wonderful... the way only leather could. It reminded her of him...gentle, but tough...long lasting...strong. She had left him a voice mail to come by her apartment and pick his gift up. She had bought it with great joy and anticipation. She couldn't wait for him to open it, so she could see his expression. But he by or called about it. It remained in the box, still wrapped, now in her bedroom, since her Christmas tree was down.

She had spent Christmas at Garrett's, along with Nigel and Bug. It was a small, intimate gathering. She had told everyone that Woody had to work. Nigel and Bug had accepted that as fact. Garrett gave her a sharp look. He had noticed, even if no one else had, that things were stressed between the couple. She spent New Year's at the Pogue, hosting their annual New Year's Eve party. Woody had been invited, and had come in briefly, leaving before they rang in the New Year. At mid-night, she had found herself with Nigel, who let her get completely drunk and then took her home and tucked her in. If Nige had thought the situation odd, he never mentioned it.

She turned away from the window. The paperwork was piling up on her desk again. She could finish trace on the body she had for Eddie and then attack the paperwork. _Let's see..._she thought. _That will keep me here until about eight, eight-thirty. Then I can leave and go to the bar...that will take me to midnight or one... And then I can go home and sleep and get up and do it all again tomorrow._ She sighed. Her life was boring...but at least she had a schedule and a system for coping.

The only thing that was different for her, the Boston PD, and the morgue, was for some reason, after the first of the year, there seemed to be a rash of accidents involving officers...One was killed in a high speed chase. One was shot in a robbery attempt. One was killed on a domestic violence call. The police department had buried three of its finest in less than a month. The department was emotionally shattered...nerves were raw. Jordan had gone to each of the funerals and had seen Woody at them. While the events brought back her grief all over again for her father, it also birthed a new worry in her heart...that one day, she would be called to the morgue and it would be Woody on the slab...that he would be killed in the line of duty. She began to hold her breath every time her phone rang.

She left her office and walked to Trace Evidence. There was no need to mope around...it was time to work...to be busy...to keep her mind off of things.

* * *

She came in late that morning – nearly two weeks later. She remembered it well. She had worked late at the Pogue to complete inventory...she didn't get home until after three. When her alarm clock went off at seven, she had shut it off and thrown it against the wall. She was getting damned tired of her own rat race. _The hell with it,_ she had thought. _I'm never late anymore...let the world revolve around me for a change for the next half hour._ She dozed back off, waking up in a panic at 8:30. She had hurriedly showered and dressed, entering the morgue at a run. Hustling off the elevator, she had nearly run into Garrett, who reached out to steady her before she fell.

"Good morning," he had greeted her, "running a little late?"

She had apologized...explaining about inventory and just the fact she was so tired lately. Noticing the dark circles under her eyes, he tried to get her to go back home...take a few more personal leave days... "God knows you have enough," he joked. That's when Nigel came around the corner from pick up...

"We have a body in autopsy two," he had stated. "You may want to get to work on it quick – there was another robbery this morning...another police officer was shot..."

Jordan didn't let him finish. All the fear that had been building up in her heart, rushed to the surface at once. She ran to the autopsy room, praying the whole way...it couldn't be him...dear God, please don't let it be him...crashing through the doors, she jerked down the zipper on the body bag with trembling hands....and looked.....

It wasn't him.

She sank to the floor, trembling. Garrett had followed closely behind her, sensing what was wrong. Gently he cradled her in his arms as the tears flowed. "It wasn't him...it wasn't him..." she whispered. "Thank God..."

Garrett had just held her for the longest time, letting her cry it out, motioning for everyone else to get out of the room. When she had calmed down, he asked, "Now do you want to tell me about it?"

She allowed him to pull her up from the floor. She was still trembling, still feeling the aftershocks of her worst fears. He gently led her back to his office, shutting the door, and pulling the blinds down to give them privacy. She sank down on the couch, curling up in a corner, her head down. He sat down beside her and took her hands. "Come on, Jo...you can tell me. What's wrong?"

"I...I.. was just worried that it could be Woody. There's been so many officers killed..." her voice broke.

"You know it's a chance he takes everyday. It's a chance every officer takes...you've known that since you were a girl and your dad was a policeman."

She nodded. "But I never worried about my dad like I do Woody. I knew Dad could handle it..."

"Woody's doing a fine job...he's handling it fine."

"I know...it's just...."

"Woody's young...seems less experienced."

"Yeah...."

"Let me remind you he's older than your dad was when Max started the force....he's had more experience."

"I'll try to keep that in mind."

"What else is there, Jo?"

Jordan bit her lip. Garrett knew...he always knew when things weren't right....he had this uncanny sixth sense when it came to her. "Can I be honest?"

"I don't want anything less." Garrett was worried about her....all the hours she was working....the circles under her eyes, the tension that stayed between her shoulders, the worry lines between her eyes. More than that, instead of gradually putting Max's death behind her and returning to normal, Jordan had grown more... more fragile...for lack of a better word...a very un-Jordan-like thing.

"We've...Woody and I, that is ... we've fought...and it hasn't been the same between us."

"Can I ask what the fight was about?"

For all her closeness to Garrett, Jordan wasn't going to tell him that they had slept together.... "It's just the friendship issue again, Garrett. He wants to be more than friends...have a real relationship. And you know me...I'm scared to death....scared of a relationship and scared of losing him altogether if something happens."

"That Tyler thing really did a number on you, didn't it Jo?"

To be honest, Jo hadn't thought about Tyler in a long time. He was well before Woody had ever moved to Boston...but it had. Between Tyler and everything she had gone through with her mother's murder and her dad, her trust level for men was at an all-time low. "I guess so...." She replied slowly.

"You know he's not like that," Garrett said, alluding to Woody.

"I know....but it's not just that, Garrett. I'm afraid...so afraid...that Woody would wake up one day and discover that I'm nothing but trouble for him...I have too much baggage, that I'm just not ....right for him. And then ... we may be to the point that if that happened, we couldn't even be friends. And I don't think I could handle my life without Woody being in it some way..."

"So friendship is the safest?"

She nodded, pulling away from him and going to stand by his office window. It helped her to move when she was in deep thought, like she was now...Garrett knew this and his eyes followed her..

"But Jo, what's this doing to you...to him?"

She laughed a very short, bitter laugh. "He's barely speaking to me....and me...well.... I...I'm coping, or at least trying, to..." her voice broke. Garrett saw her put her hand to her forehead to hide the tears. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face him.

"Jo, I'm no expert at relationships... God knows...but I can tell you this...it's obvious to me that this friendship thing you're trying to keep going with Woody isn't working for either one of you. All I can tell you is follow your heart....listen to it....and don't try to logically figure the relationship out. Love isn't about logic....or even what's best for everyone involved. It's about your heart...what it's telling you...what it's feeling."

She nodded. "How did you get so wise?" she asked, managing to get out a small smile.

"Time....losing at love one too many times...not listening to my heart." He smiled down at her.

"Thanks, Garrett."

"Wanna take some time off?"

"No...not now...I think I'll go to my office and finish up some paperwork. I'll leave the officer's autopsy to you. I may take the time off in a few weeks....take a vacation....go south or something...."

"Just let me know when and how much you're taking."


	12. Corned Beef on Rye

It was late....at least late for Woody. He was supposed to be off three hours ago...but he wasn't. A homicide had been called in at four...an hour before he was supposed to get off. The body had been processed and taken to the morgue. Jordan had answered the call. Now Woody was on his way over to see what the preliminary reports said about the murder.

"Hey, Lily," he called out, reaching the morgue doors, "where's my body?"

"Autopsy one."

He hadn't been to the morgue as much as he usually did...seeing Jordan was now both wonderful and torture at the same time....he still loved her... still wanted to be with her....but knowing how she felt, or at least how she thought she felt, about him was difficult. He was trying to be patient...trying to give her time...but it was hard. He pushed open the doors to the autopsy room. "Hey, Jordan....what's the news?"

"I don't know...you'd have to ask Jordan," Garrett replied.

Woody stopped in his tracks. "I thought Jordan was doing my autopsy."

"She went home... She's not feeling well."

"Oh....then what do you have?"

"Not a lot right now....still doing prelims....interesting knife wounds, though. I think they used a hunting knife. I'm going to let Nigel deal with that tomorrow."

Woody nodded. "Ummm, did Jordan go home or try to go into the Pogue?"

"I think she went home...to try to get to feeling better so she could go in."

Woody turned on his heel and headed out. He'd try her apartment first and then the bar. Fifteen minutes later, he was standing outside the red door of her apartment, banging with his fist. "Jordan, open up, it's me...."

He could hear her shuffling around inside and a few moments later, she slowly opened the door. "Woody? What are you doing here?"

Woody was startled to see the change in Jordan from this afternoon. She was pale and clammy. At the homicide scene, she had been fine. "I came to check on you. Garrett told me you weren't feeling well...you got sick really quick."

Opening the door a little wider for him to come in, she nodded, making her way back over to her couch where she had been laying down. There was a bottle of ginger ale and some saltine crackers on the table. "You've been sick to your stomach, haven't you?" he asked.

She nodded, lying back down. He felt her forehead. "No fever..."

"Thank you, Dr. Hoyt," she said sarcastically. She was tired. And sick. And she had just been through the same scenario with Garrett."

"Hey, I let you examine me..."

"Yeah, but I'm a doctor."

"And I'm a concerned...." He bit back the word. He wanted to say lover, boyfriend, but knew that would make her bristle.... "_friend_," he emphasized.

"No need to get your knickers in a twist....I think it's the corned beef on rye I ate for lunch today."

"Is there anything you need...anything I can get you?"

Jordan sighed and sat back up to face him. "No...I'll be okay. Just trying to get things settled back down so I can head into the Pogue in a while."

"You know all you have to do is call and Marge will handle it."

"That's just it....her sister's sick and I gave her the rest of the week of to go be with her in Baltimore...Gordan and Jimmy can't handle it by themselves."

Woody hesitated. He knew nothing about bars...but still made the offer, "I could handle it for you tonight..."

Jordan shook her head. "Nah. I'll be fine....I think." Another wave of nausea hit her and she ran for the bathroom, barely making it in time. She had never felt this sick. This would be the last time she ordered deli food from the new place across the street from the morgue. Finally, relieving her stomach of absolutely anything else, she stood and splashed her face with cold water and brushed her teeth. She had to make it in tonight...although right now all she wanted to do was sleep. Crawl back in the bed. Pull a pillow over her head and not come out until tomorrow morning. Gingerly she made her way to her bedroom, only to find Woody perched on the side of her bed.

"I don't think you should go in."

"I'll be fine...I think it's over now, anyway."

"Jordan...." His voice held a warning note.

"Honestly, Woody....I have to," her voice wobbled. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Don't you understand, I _have to_. It's my responsibility. It's my bar...mine now...."

It hit Woody then how utterly alone Jordan felt since Max's death. Even when Max was in Ireland, at least Jordan knew he was coming home at some point...he was there....if she absolutely needed him, she could get in touch with him. Only now she had no one...or at least felt like she had no one. And all the weight of her world was on her shoulders alone. Getting up off the bed, he came over to where she was standing in her tiny walk-in closet, rummaging through it, trying to find something to wear. Softly he spoke, "I could do it, Jo... I could handle it tonight."

Jordan didn't even turn around at the sound of his voice, trying to continue to will her unruly stomach back in line and concentrate on getting dressed. She pulled her shirt off, grabbed a pair of jeans, and turned around to reach for a shirt. And ran straight into Woody.

He caught her by the arms, drawing in a sharp breath at the sight of her clad only in her shorts and her lacy bra....Sternly telling himself that she was ill, he took the shirt out of her shaking hands and pulled it on over her head. "Get dressed," he said gruffly. "You're going to catch a cold on top of everything else if you're not careful." He backed out into the bedroom.

Jordan pulled on her jeans and shoved her feet in her shoes, all the time feeling a blush build on her cheeks. She didn't know why she should feel so awkward....Woody had seen her in less....much less. "That's okay...I can manage," she said. She walked over to the kitchen counter to get her purse and keys when she remembered his Christmas gift. She stopped him before he could get to her apartment door. "Woody, wait..."

Woody paused a moment, his hand on the doorknob. He saw her go back into her bedroom and come out with a package. "Here," she said, handing him the present. "Merry Belated Christmas....you never did come by and get it..."

"Jordan, I don't think I should..."

"No. I want you to have it. I really, really do. I know you'll enjoy it....Look I need to run because Jimmy and Gordan are going to be looking for you lock up behind me?" And with that she fled her apartment. She felt awkward...she didn't know why....it wasn't necessarily because Woody saw her in her near-birthday suit...Maybe it was the gift...what if he didn't like it? Worse yet, what if he refused it? She didn't want to know. She rode the elevator down and climbed in her car, relieved that finally her stomach was feeling settled. She pulled out of her parking spot and headed towards the Pogue.

Back at the apartment, Woody examined the package, slowly undoing the bow and tearing off the paper. Carefully, he lifted the lid of the box. He sighed when he saw the jacket...she spent a small fortune on it...it was a genuine leather jacket...He took it out of the box and tried it on. It fit perfectly...and smelt like leather and Jordan...her perfume lingered on it. Determinedly, he flipped off the lights and locked her door. He was going to the Pogue to make sure her stomach remained under control.

She saw him when he came in...he evidently gone home to change out of his suit...he was now clad in faded jeans, a shirt, and the jacket. He took his usual place at the bar. "Scotch?" Gordan asked. He always felt a little apprehensive when Woody showed up at the bar...that usually meant either one of two things...either sparks were going to fly at some point between Jordan and Woody or his boss-lady would end up fighting back the tears before the night was over. He wished these two would either settle their differences or break completely up....the saga of Jordan and Woody was reading like an old soap opera script to him....

"Yeah, single...and only one, please, Gordan." His eyes were on Jordan, who was delivering orders to another table and fending off some big guy's advances. His fingers tightened around his glass.

"Don't worry...she can handle herself. That's old man Kody. He does this all the time to her...." Gordan confided to Woody. "Actually, he's all bark and no bite. If he was the least bit dangerous, she'd have kicked him out a long time ago."

Woody watched as Jordan did put the man in his place and make her way back down to the bar. "What's up Farm Boy? Didn't want to go back home?"

Woody shook his head. "Wanted to check on you...make sure you were still okay...and thank you for my jacket...it's wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it, Wood...and glad it fits...you look good in it."

"You shouldn't have done it, Jordan," he said softly. "I mean, it's a little much for just friends." This time when he said the word _friends_, it didn't carry the heat, the anger with him it usually did.

"No it's not....I wanted to do it."

"Why, Jo?"

"Because...because," she hesitated. She couldn't tell him that...she couldn't. "Because you've helped me out so much this year...with dad...and everything. It was the least I could do."

"Yeah, but I didn't deserve this."

Jordan was shocked. "Of course you did..." Just then Gordan called her over... there was a problem with register. She found herself involved with that, then there was one thing after another until midnight. She didn't see Woody again until closing. She checked out the register, locked the money in the safe, and found Woody waiting to walk her out to her car.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. She was tired...between work, her round of nausea, and the Pogue, she was ready for bed. He took her by the arm and walked with her out the back door, pausing only to lock it behind them. "Your tummy still okay?"

"Yeah. It's stopped playing Mount Vesuvius."

Woody chuckled. "Well, corned beef on rye can be dangerous." He paused before he opened the door of her car for her, looking deep in to her eyes. "Be careful going home....get some rest." He gently trailed a finger down the side of her face.

Jordan caught her breath, almost feeling tears come to her eyes at his gentle gesture. She knew he had meant it only to be comforting, but she couldn't help but remember the officers....the ones that had met such untimely deaths in the past few weeks. What would she do without this man? How would she cope if anything happened to him? Sometimes the love she felt for him almost staggered her. But he must never know...if he did, he may feel he had to love her back...an obligation....one that would do nothing but hurt both of them. Especially when she was so sure that he knew...knew somehow, she wasn't right for him.

"I will...you do the same."

Woody nodded and opened her car door. When he was sure she was buckled in, he shut it and put his hand up to the window. "Good night, Jordan."

She waved. He watched her drive off in the night, her headlights glowing in the wet darkness. Standing alone in the parking lot of the bar, he took in a deep breath...one that lingered with the smell of beer, leather.....and her.


	13. Like a Bolt out of the Blue

Woody kept a close eye on Jordan the next several days....he was worried about her. Not so much physically, but emotionally. That night at the Pogue allowed him a brief glimpse of what was going on in Jordan's head...it explained a lot ... her anxiety....her stress...her sheer fragility. She really felt like she was alone...that she had to bear all the burdens of her job and the Pogue on her own. He had questioned Garrett about his worries, thinking that the chief ME may do something to put them to rest. He didn't. Woody found out Garrett was just as concerned. Garrett kept hoping Jordan would take him up on the vacation time and head south for a few days...to a warmer climate and some restful time off. She didn't. She thought she couldn't leave the Pogue long enough.

His concern mounted when she answered one of his homicide calls. She arrived at the scene pale and tired-looking. She performed the initial examination with her customary professionalism and thoroughness. He had watch her conduct the autopsy with just as much perfection. She had pulled off her gloves and met him in trace to go over the results. He had stopped her in mid-report. "Go home," he said.

She looked at him like he had grown a third head. "What?!"

"You heard me...go home. You're dead on your feet, Jordan."

Jordan grimaced. "Look, Woody, I'm fine....just a little tired."

"No, you're exhausted. There's a difference." He took the reports out of her hand and pushed her out the door. "Home. Now. I'll tell Garrett."

"But Woody..."

He glared at her. "Go. Home. Now."

"No...I've got work to do."

"Jordan. You are going home. Now. You still aren't feeling well. You got sick between leaving the crime scene and coming back here. You're pale and you look like you need to sleep for a week. Go back to your apartment. I'll be by later to check on you."

"It's just taking me a little while to get over this food poisoning...that's all."

"Maybe so...or maybe you're just working yourself to death."

"Woody..." She looked at him. He was relentless...not giving an inch. And to tell the truth, she still wasn't feeling well. The corned beef on rye kept coming back to haunt her. Again. And again. His blue eyes were nearly glaring at her....not giving her a way out. She caved. "Okay...I will. I'll go home and rest...you win. Happy?"

He shot her a grin. "Ecstatic."

He watched Jordan get her things and leave. Satisfied that she was going home to rest, he turned his attention to the reports. He would go over later to check on her. And he did. After he had done everything he needed to for the day, he went to her apartment. He knocked. No answer. He knocked harder. No answer. He banged. No answer. _If she has left and gone to the Pogue, so help me, I'll....._he thought darkly. Looking around to make sure none of Jordan's neighbors were watching, he took a small tool from his key ring and jimmied the lock. He walked through her apartment to her bedroom. She was there, on her bed, sound asleep. She hadn't heard him at all.

His face softened as he looked at her prone figure. She was over-burdened and over-wrought. Over worked. He noticed the ever-present bottle of ginger ale beside her bed and the Pepto Bismol. She was still fighting that food poisoning.... Then it hit him. Like a lightning bolt out of the blue...

That morning...of the black out....when he had made love to her....he hadn't used any protection. And he would bet his bottom dollar Jordan wasn't using any birth control...she had no reason to before that morning....He swallowed hard.

Jordan was pregnant.

And she didn't even know.

Woody ran his fingers through his hair and began to pace. She probably didn't know. She couldn't...maybe. He didn't know a whole lot about Jordan's medical background other than some things he had overheard heard she and Lily discuss. Girl things. Woman things. And he had gathered enough information to know that Jordan wasn't regular with her periods. She may not have even recognized that she had missed one....

But all the signs pointed to it....the tiredness....the nausea....the emotions....She needed to do a test....he needed her to do a pregnancy test. But how was he going to do that? And what would she do if she was....carrying his child?

Oh God. His child....their child.

He quietly left the apartment and headed for the drug store.

* * *

Stretching, Jordan woke up. It was past time to get ready to go to the Pogue. She could afford to be a little late. Hell, she owned the damn place, right? She leisurely showered and got ready. She had to admit, Woody had been right. She had been tired. She felt much better now. She made a mental note to call him tomorrow and let him know that he did her a big favor. She was over the food poisoning. It was amazing how far a little rest could go to restoring health.

She arrived late at the bar and paused to hang up her coat in the back office. Walking to the register, she greeted Gordan and Marge. "Hey, honey," Marge said. "Your boyfriend has been here for over an hour waiting on you. You don't need to let a good looking man like him wait so long by himself." Jordan looked down at Woody's regular spot. He wasn't there. "No, no, girl. He's not there. He's back there at the table...said he needed to speak to you in private."

"Thanks, Marge...and he's a friend, not a boyfriend."

"Yeah, well. Whatever you young folks are calling them nowadays."

Jordan made her way over to Woody, who was working on his second Guinness and looking solemn. "Hey Wood....what's up?" She sat down beside him. "You know...I hate to do this, but I have to admit you're right. I feel much better after getting some rest." She reached over to get his beer and take a sip. He stopped her. If she was pregnant, she didn't need to drink.

"What's the matter Woody?"

"Jordan, I think I know what's wrong with you."

"Oh...is this going to be some deep psychological discussion? Because if it is, I'm really not up to it now."

"No....I mean physically. I think I know."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "What?"

God. He couldn't say it. He couldn't. Wordlessly, he reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a small bag. "I think you should use this."

Jordan peeked inside the bag and her face went white. She covered her mouth with her hand. "No," was all she said, her voice shaking.  
  
"Look. The signs add up. The nausea. The tiredness. The emotional upheaval you've been going through....didn't you think of it?"

She shook her head no.

"That morning....of the black out....I didn't use anything. Are you on the patch or any type of birth control?"

She shook her head no again. "There hasn't been a reason to..." she whispered.

"Then I suggest we go back to your apartment and run the test."

She nodded. "I'll tell Marge to close."

* * *

Two pink lines meant yes. She and Woody stared at the tiny white stick for a long time....two pink lines changed their future and irrevocably linked them together forever. Jordan was pregnant. Woody was the father. She slumped on the floor beside the bathtub in her apartment. He sat on the side of the tub, his face in his hands.

"I need to run another test," she said, getting up off the floor.

"Jordan, you've run four tests. All different brands. All the same results." She had made Woody stop by two drug stores on the way back to the apartment. "You're pregnant."

She walked over to her window in the bedroom, looking out into the night sky. _Now what am I going to do? How can I do this, too? With everything else, now I have a baby coming...and it's Woody's...._ The thought thrilled her on one hand...Woody's baby. Their child. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her abdomen. But she knew now he would fee obligated to stay with her, as the baby's father...and perhaps her husband. The father part, she could handle. She wanted him to be an active part of their child's life. But she wanted no relationship with him out of obligation...her feelings were too deep for him to suffer through that.

Woody watched her walk away from him and move to the window, rubbing her tummy, as if she was trying to sooth away any stress of the situation away from their child. From the way she held her shoulders, he knew she was fighting this thing....figuring out what to do....how it all fit. Did it fit? He came up behind her, wanting to hold her and comfort her like he did when her father died. But she would have none of that now...she was still confused.... "I don't know what to say, Jordan. I can't say I'm sorry, because I'm not....maybe sorry that it happened now, but I'm not sorry that we're having a child. I don't regret making love to you....I don't regret that we're having a child together."

She turned to face him, brushing the hair back off her shoulders. "I'm not expecting an apology....I just need time to figure out what to do...." She turned back to face the window.

A sinking feeling hit Woody. _Figure out what to do... she's not...she's not considering_. Before he could even think through the thought, the words were on his lips. "Jordan, you're not...going to...I mean, you're not thinking about...." His lips couldn't form around the thought.

"Abortion? No....no Woody. Even I'm too Catholic for that. Even if I wasn't, I couldn't do it to the baby, to us..." her hand protectively went to shield the area under her navel. "I meant how I was going to deal with this...."

"Jordan, you don't have to go though this alone. It's my child too... I want to do what's right for it...and for us."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear....he was already beginning to feel obligated. Sighing, and feeling oh, so tired, she replied, "Let's not tell anyone right now, Wood. No family. No friends. It's still early....We need to think about some issues. And right now all I want to do is take one day at a time for a while...Okay?"

* * *

One day at a time came slowly for Woody. Jordan wouldn't raise the subject with him. She avoided it at the Pogue...and he knew it was off-limits at work. Hell, she wasn't even letting Garrett know yet. But he could tell it was on her mind...he would catch her looking off into space, a far-off look in her eyes...biting her lower lip. He wanted so badly to tell her it would be okay, they could make it work...the baby _and_ them. Her silence on the matter, however, let him know she was still working through things in her mind. Sifting....going through the facts...trying to predict what would happen. The closest they had come to having a real conversation was two days after she ran the pregnancy test. She had called him at home...away from work ... to let him know that she had scheduled a doctor's appointment. She told him the date and time and said that if he wanted to be there, she wouldn't mind. She'd meet him at the doctor's office.

He made a note of the appointment and asked off of work. The doctor's address was a good half-hour away...Jordan didn't want anyone she worked with to get even the least suspicious, so she had found an ob/gyn as far away from the morgue as she could. He called her back and left a message on her machine that he would be there. He knew better than to offer to drive her over...

When that day came, he arrived a little early at the doctors, and found her already there, nervously twisting her fingers together. She still looked tired and pale...and worried. He sat down beside her and took her hand.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hi...did you have any trouble finding the place?"

"No...you sure picked a doctor a long way from where you live..."

"Yeah... no curious eyes, if you know what I mean."

Woody nodded. "Have you filled out the insurance forms?"

"Yeah...."she swallowed hard. Woody could see she was barely keeping herself together when the nurse called her name. "You coming back with me?" she asked.

Woody felt awkward. Jordan wasn't his wife, but there were other men in the waiting room. Surely not all of these couples were married...but he still felt strange about going back into the exam room with her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I need you now, Wood..." She held out her hand. He took it. Her fingers were trembling.

The lab work was simple. Blood. Urine. The technician ran another pregnancy test just to be sure. Then Jordan was shown the exam room. Woody waited outside while she changed into the gown. When he came back in, she was seated on the exam table. She looked as white as the sheets. Woody didn't even have a chance to try to comfort her when the doctor came in.

"I'm Dr. Williams," he said introducing himself. "You're must be Jordan," he said shaking hands with her. "And you're...?"

"Woody Hoyt." He shook the doctor's hand.

The doctor asked Jordan some questions. "When was the first day of your last period?"

She didn't know. "I'm not real regular," she answered.

"Any trouble other than the usual – tender breasts, nausea, tiredness?"

Jordan shook her head no.

"Anything that makes you think you're going to have any trouble carrying this baby? Past miscarriages, abortions?"

Jordan again shook her head no. Then the doctor turned to Woody and asked him to step outside so he could examine Jordan. A few minutes later, he was allowed back in. Dr. Williams told them to meet him in his office. Woody stepped back outside to allow Jordan to dress. When she was ready, they walked down the hall to the doctor's office. He wasn't there yet. They sat down in chairs across from his desk. "Are you okay?" Woody finally broke the silence and asked her.

She sighed. "I'm fine...I just hate those things," she replied, indicating the exams.

Dr. Williams came in then and sat down behind his desk. "You look fine, Jordan. Just fine. And even though you haven't said anything, Woody, I'm assuming you're the father?"

Woody nodded.

"From everything I can determine today, yes you are definitely pregnant. And you're in overall good health, Jordan. Except for your weight. You need to plan on gaining a little with a baby...you're underweight now. I don't mean eat the wrong kinds of food, but eat more of the good stuff...high protein, high calcium, vegetables, fruits. Of course, no alcohol. Or drugs, over the counter or prescribed, unless they're cleared by my office.

"The papers you filled out said you were a medical examiner. How are you doing with your job?"

"I'm fine so far..."

"Anyone you can get to help you lift and run the equipment that has x-rays involved?"

_Oh Christ,_ she thought. _That means I'm going to have to tell Garrett and the rest...or they're going to wonder why I won't do it anymore. _But it was workable...she could tell them. She nodded.

"Then there's no reason you can't work up until right before the delivery."

Woody cleared his throat. Jordan knew what was coming. "She also owns a bar – The Pogue. She works there at nights until midnight after she gets off at the morgue."

Dr. Williams shook his head. "That's too much. Especially if the bar is not smoke free. Get someone to run the bar for you...and you just come in a couple of times a week and make sure everything's going okay."

"But...." began Jordan.

"No buts," said Dr. Williams. "You're having a baby. All your priorities are getting ready to change now."

"Marge could do it, Jordan. She does fine when you're not there," Woody said, softly. He knew she was still upset, but the doctor was right. Both of their priorities were getting ready to shift....drastically.

Defeated, Jordan agreed. Dr. Williams gave her a prescription for prenatal vitamins and told her to make an appointment to come back in a month. "Oh, and by the way, from what I can tell with the exam, you're between eight and nine weeks along....so that makes your due date about mid-July. I'll know more next time...we'll do your first sonogram."

Jordan and Woody thanked the doctor and got up to leave. "And kids," Dr. Williams said before they could open the door, "sex is still fine...probably up until the last month." He grinned and winked at them. Jordan could feel the color rise in her face.


	14. Get the Picture

Jordan sighed as she turned the key in the lock of her father's house. She hadn't been back since the black out. _A house too full of memories, _ she thought. _Dad...Woody...and now this_. She absent-mindedly folded her arm across her tummy. A protective gesture...and in some cases, defensive.

She had left that day after her doctor's appointment – although ran was a really better word. She called Garrett at home and said she really, really needed some emergency leave time. She would explain later, and yes, she had a damn good excuse. She'd only be gone a few days and she promised, on her life, that yes, she would be back. Thinking that maybe Woody had asked her to marry him, and she needed time to think, Garrett said yes.

So she packed her bags and left, heading South along the coast. She called Woody's apartment when she knew he would be at work and left a message on the machine: "I'm going away for a few days...just need to think, Woody. Be by myself and think. I have a lot of decisions to make...and so do you. Maybe a few days apart is just what we need....you know? Anyway, I'll be back in three days. If you need me, call me...but I really need to be alone. And no, I won't do anything stupid, I promise. And yes, I will be back, I swear." She had driven on through the night, sometimes crying, sometimes just humming along with her radio...but always noticing the call light on her cell phone kept blinking...he was trying to reach her. But she just didn't feel like talking. Not to him. Not to anyone. She really wished her dad was here.

The ocean seemed to speak to Jordan...to calm her nerves and her fears. She stopped at a bed and breakfast for the first night. She spent hours walking along the beach...watching the gulls, listening to the steady pounding of the waves, feeling the cool sand between her toes. The second day she had slept in, nearly until noon, not realizing how much her body was craving rest. She had gotten up, dressed, and bought lunch, spending the afternoon at the local shops. On impulse, she bought a large, gauzy, white top – normally three sizes too large for her. She figured that as her waist expanded, the blouse would come in handy as a maternity top...her first purchase on her journey to motherhood. She didn't know whether to grin or grimace.

She ended up at an ice cream shop...and ordered a scoop of low-fat chocolate yogurt. There was a family in there...Mom, Dad, and a little girl...with brown curls and big blue eyes. Jordan normally never really noticed kids...they just had never surfaced in her circle of consciousness...but this one did. She smiled to herself as she watched the young child lick her way through a messy cone of strawberry, leaving pink, sticky trickles down the sides of her mouth and on her blue shirt. Such a pretty, little thing. Then it hit her...the reason the little girl caught her attention is that she looked much like what a child she and Woody may have together....brown curls...blue eyes...freckles. She turned away and put a hand on her tummy.

Then she knew... she had to get back home. Home to Boston. Her responsibility became crystal clear...she had to get home to get things ready for her baby. She could no longer run...in any sense of the term. She was going to be a mother. She had repacked her bags and drove like the devil himself was behind her. Back to Boston...back to home...back to Max's.

And that's where she was now...in the kitchen, if not of her childhood home, at least the only home she really wanted to remember. The house where she had found her mother's body...she didn't like to remember that one. She seldom wanted to drive past it anymore, no matter how many secrets it held.

She wasn't here to reminisce, she was here to plan...to measure....to see how she and the baby would fit.

As much as it pained Jordan to face up to the fact, the apartment on Pearle Street would have to go. She hated that fact. She had been through so much there....it held memories, both good and bad. But mostly, it had been an anchor for her...a place she knew she could go back to for solitude, peace...and to lick her wounds on more than one occasion. However, the rent was high, even for an old apartment like that. Her father had willed her the house...it was paid for. She could move in there, have more room, and save several hundred dollars a month in rent. She stopped, put her bags on the table and walked over to one of the drawers in the kitchen. She pulled out a carpenter's tape measure and made her way upstairs. There was a half bath down stairs and a full bathroom upstairs. That had always been enough for her and Max. She may have to put another full bath in later...when the baby was older.

She planned on converting her bedroom into the baby's room. It was the smallest, but coziest bedroom, with a dormer window that overlooked the front yard. She had sat in the window seat many afternoons, waiting for her dad to come home...reading a book...doing her homework. The seat lifted up and would be a perfect toy box. Max hadn't changed the room when she left home...it was still painted lavender....her favorite color during her teenage years. That would have to change...as soon as she knew if she was having a boy or a girl. Mentally, she scoped out a plan... crib here, changing table there. She could keep the bookcase and thank goodness for the closet space. This would work.

The guest bedroom she was going to leave alone. Max had used it mainly for storage...she planned on doing the same, at least for right now. It was pretty empty at the present. Jordan had gone through it after he died, throwing or giving away most of the stuff. She took a deep breath and opened the door to her father's room. She hadn't been in this room since he had left....to search for and conquer his own demons...a journey that had taken him first to Canada, then England, Ireland....and finally back home...She hadn't had the courage to go in...it was like invading holy ground. She chuckled....her dad would have loved that.

Everything was as he left it. Neat. Tidy. She would have to do something with his clothes...the suitcases that he had with him in Ireland were still sitting by the closet. Nigel had brought them in...and took them upstairs out of her sight. She took out the tape measure and began to plan for this room. She didn't want her dad's creaky box springs and mattress, or his bedroom suit. They weren't her style, and she wanted her waterbed from the apartment. She had to make this room seem hers, or she feared she may go crazy out of grief for her dad. It would fit...and the room was still big enough to give her room for her small desk, her dresser, and a few of her other things. There was only one thing left to do...his closet. Swallowing hard, she opened the door. Max had been a neat freak. There was really nothing for her to do but give his clothes to Goodwill. But the smell that came wafting out of the closet....it was all Max....his cologne...the smell of the beer from the Pogue....Jordan found herself fighting back tears before she knew what was happening. Shutting the door, vowing to see if Lily could come and help her through this one afternoon after work, she turned....but the tears wouldn't stop.

It was like all the grief she had been bottling up for weeks came rushing out of her now. Sobs began to tear at her throat. _Dad...how could you? How could you leave me when I needed you the most...I wonder if you have any idea how much I need you now?_ Max would have made short order of Jordan's situation, offering any help she needed. Of course, Max would also want Woody to marry her....and would be pitching a royal fit that it wasn't happening. She closed the closet door and walked downstairs...continuing to plan.

She would keep the dining room suite...the living room furniture would have to go. She wanted her own. She would keep all of Max's kitchen stuff....he had a better kitchen set up than she did...not that she cooked that much. Of course, that may change with the baby....She was so engrossed with her thoughts, she nearly didn't hear the knocking at the front door. She walked over to answer it. It was Woody.

He looked like he had been through hell and back again....and lived to talk about it. He looked worried, angry...and something else Jordan couldn't put her finger on....

"You're back," he said, greeting her as she swung open the door.

"I told you I would be...I just needed some time."

Woody was just about to tell her how he really felt...how she had worried him...and he couldn't tell anyone why...how he had gone just a little crazier everyday because he wasn't sure if she was okay...until he saw her face and realized she had been crying...and he had to know over what.

"What's the matter Jordan? Is everything okay? The baby..."

"The baby's fine, Woody. Honest. I just....just...," her voice was catching. "I just miss my dad." And her face crumpled, much like it had that day in Garrett's office when Eddie had told her of Max's death.

He pulled her to him then, holding her close, rubbing her back in small circles, hoping to ease the pain...he didn't imagine Jordan had given herself a whole lot of time to grieve...first with the Pogue and now with her pregnancy. He just held her and let her cry it out....just like he did that day in Garrett's office.

He held her for what seemed like endless minutes, rubbing her back, stroking her hair out of her face. Finally, she gave one last hiccupping sob and drew back, looking him in the face. "Sorry...."

"There's no need to be sorry...you've probably been needing to do that."

She nodded. "It had been building up."

"So what are you doing here, Jo? I thought you'd be back at your apartment."

She took a deep breath. Now was as good of a time as any...she needed to tell him. "I'm giving up my apartment, Wood. I'm going to move back in here. It's bigger...plenty of room for the baby...and I won't have to pay rent. I'll save money..."

"Jo...I've told you, I'm going to help with the baby....both in taking care of him or her and financially...."

"I know...I'm just trying to think ahead...plan for once in my life."

Woody was a little shocked. Evidently during the time Jordan was gone, she had been doing some thinking...some very good thinking. Woody had figured she was on her way to running again and wasn't sure where he would have to go in order to bring her home this time. But she had kept her word. She came home. She was fine. The baby was fine. And she had planned. "Well, it's true about the room," he finally said. "There is more room here than at your place."

"And it's a good neighborhood for kids....lots of families."

"And the park is right down the street."

"And the schools are good, if I don't want to send him to a Catholic school."

So far Woody agreed with her thinking...she was thinking ahead...thinking of the baby. He nodded. "But Jordan..."

Jordan felt her spine stiffen. She sensed what was coming next...

"What about us?"

"As parents? I hope you plan on having an active role in our baby's life..."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. I want to marry you."

"Why? It's not necessary nowadays."

"It is for me....We're having a baby....it's only right..."

That's what she was afraid of. That she would be an _obligation_ – something he must do...something he must take care of – and nothing else. And her feelings for him ran too deep for that. That thought...the realization that he was there only out of a perceived sense of responsibility would kill her emotionally...and destroy any of the feelings she may have for him. No, she would much rather just remain friends and parents...she may have to keep her feelings hid from him, but at least she wouldn't end up emotionally numb and hating him.

"No...No, Woody. No marriage."

Woody turned around and ran his fingers through his hair. He was frustrated to no end with her. What did she mean, no marriage? He wanted to be there the whole time for her and the baby.

"You know your dad would turn over in his grave if he heard you say that...given this situation."

Jordan caught her breath sharply. _Ouch...that hurt_, she thought. "I know... but despite that, I know you Woody Hoyt. You're a good man. You will do what's right by this baby, whether we are together or not. That's just the way you are...you always try to do what's right. I hope our child takes after you ...."

Now it was Woody's turn to catch his breath sharply..._What is she saying?_ "Jordan? What do you mean?"

"I mean that I know you'll always be there for the baby...always. And you'll be the perfect father...I'm too messed up myself to be June Cleaver or Carol Brady. But I will love him...and I'll do my very best for him or her.

As for us...Woody, you and I both know that as the years would roll by, you'd just end up frustrated with me...I'm not good wife material...And I couldn't bear the thought of you hating me before it was all over...I've had too many friends go through divorce...it's too painful. We can be parents together, and I can be your best friend...I will watch your back...make sure nothing harms you. But can you honestly see us together? I'd drive you nuts inside a month."

Woody wanted to tell her that not being with her was driving him nuts...forget about anything else. And yes, he could see them together. He wasn't as set in his ways as she made him out to be.....He could see them working together, playing together...making love together and enjoying the hell out of all of it. He could see them mowing the lawn together, attending PTA meetings together, and holding their baby together when it was christened. He could see it all – with them together. Rocking the baby and then, years down the road, rocking the grandchildren. He could see them chasing a bunch of dirty, half-naked children upstairs in order to coral them into the bathtub – together. And he could see them in their twilight years, being together, with their kids, grandkids, and maybe, if they were lucky, great-grandkids. Most of all, he simply could not picture his life without her...doing so was too painful to admit.

Woody sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Okay Jordan...I'll drop the subject. I won't mention marriage again _right now_. But I'm not promising it won't come up again. Yes, the baby is mine. And yes, I will love him or her and take care of them. However," he continued as he walked up to her and tapped her on the chest, "I think you're _wrong_ about yourself. I think you're going to make a great mother....and I think you'd make a great wife...just because you're _you_. Jordan Cavanaugh. And I can't and won't take no for an answer. I not only want you in my life, I _need_ you in my life...."

"Woody, I don't think..."

"No, Jordan...you're wrong. Maybe you can forget what it was like that day we made love....but I don't. I remember what I felt...I remember what you felt...how you felt...and what you said." He pulled her back into his arms. "And you can't say you don't want it to happen again." He kissed her then, a brief, but hard caress and let her go. "I'll be close by, Jordan. I'll be there for you this entire pregnancy...for backrubs or sonograms or weird cravings. I want to take care of _you...and our child_." And with that, he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

He walked down the sidewalk...angry...hurt....frustrated...longing. He got in his car, pausing long enough to run a weary hand down his face...What was wrong with her? She could do this alone, but it would be so hard...being pregnant...having the baby....taking care of everything. She had so little faith in herself...he could see their future together clearly. He sighed. He knew what he had to do...get her to see the same picture he did.


	15. Sonograms, Shifting Attitudes, and Shari...

Jordan began to mark the days off on her calendar, each one a step closer to the inevitable – having to tell Garrett and the rest of the morgue staff. So far, she had been able to handle things...she told Garrett that she had hurt her back working out and could someone please help her lift and turn the bodies? She managed to always have something else to do when an x-ray had to be made. But she knew she could not keep up the façade forever. If she didn't verbally tell them, then her burgeoning tummy would. Only she had been able to tell the difference so far – pants getting snug around the waist, jeans fitting a little tighter than usual. Thank God scrubs were forgiving....that drawstring would let them ease out with her expansion.

If scrubs were forgiving, it seemed that Woody was not. Jordan often felt herself the victim of his stares – centered around her stomach. She would often catch him eyeing her abdomen, as if trying to look into her uterus and make sure everything was okay. Nigel and Garrett had caught on that he was a little more attentive to her than usual – making sure she was comfortable, helping her more on the crime scenes when she answered his calls. They had chalked it up to Woody making one last, gallant push for Jordan's affections before he called it quits. She knew different. She knew his concern, but could also sense his irritation at her for keeping it silent so long. She wasn't talking to anyone about her pregnancy – including him. Anytime he broached the subject with her, she'd shut down...draw inside herself.

As her February appointment with Dr. Williams loomed on the horizon, she gave him a call – at home, again – to remind him of the date and time. As fate would have it, it was Valentine's. She agreed to meet him at the doctor's office again. This would be their appointment for their first sonogram..._baby's first picture_, she had thought to herself, as she drove to the doctor's. Woody was already there when she arrived. They didn't even get a chance to sit down when the nurse called Jordan's name.

She and Woody went back to the sonogram room. Dr. Williams entered right behind. "Lie down and lift up your shirt," he told Jordan and proceeded with the sonogram. It took a few minutes, but soon, there on the screen, in full color, was a picture of their baby. "There it is, kids," Dr. Williams said, "a little Jordan or Woody."

"Can you tell whether it's a boy or girl?" asked Jordan, turning her head so she could see the image better.

"Not on your life!" said the doctor. "It's way too early, and the baby is not cooperating. But here is the spine—and it looks good. So does the head. You're doing an awesome job, Jordan. It's a perfectly healthy baby. I'll leave you two alone for a few minutes to look at your son or daughter. Just move this button to see close up or from another view."

Woody came closer to Jordan's side. Tentatively, he reached out and held her hand. She responded by squeezing his tightly.

"Look, Woody...see the little fingers and toes? Look at that...he's wigging...."

Woody looked at the tiny image on the screen and swallowed hard. A baby...his baby. Then he looked down at Jordan. For the first time in God knows how many weeks, she was smiling...totally captivated by the baby. Gone were the worry lines from between her eyes...her whole face was lit up...looking at the baby. "Remember, we don't know if it's a boy or a girl. It could be her wiggling," he replied.

They both watched their tiny child on the screen move its arms and shift around. Woody asked Jordan if she could feel anything, but it was too early in the pregnancy. All too soon, Dr. Williams came back in and told them that they would have to conclude the sonogram. "But you're looking good, Jordan. And I think we can stick by the mid-July due date – probably around July 17."

Jordan and Woody thanked the doctor and Woody helped Jordan down from the table. "Can you meet me somewhere for lunch?" he asked. "I think there's a few things we need to talk about."

"Yeah....I guess there are. Sure. Name the place. I don't have to be back at work until three."

"How about my place? It's quiet. We can talk there without anyone interrupting us. I'll pick up some Chinese on the way in."

An hour later, Jordan found herself in Woody's apartment, feet propped up, and a plate of Moo Goo Gai pan balanced on her lap. Woody sat beside her and they both were eyeing the picture of the baby that Dr. Williams had made from the sonogram.

"So that is it...that is what we made," said Woody.

"Um hum," Jordan replied, her mouth full of chicken.

"Wow...so perfect."

"Well, at least we can do something right," joked Jordan.

Woody chuckled, but he knew both of them had been moved by the sonogram. They knew they were having a baby, but this made it personal...this made it theirs. "What do we do now?" he asked, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair.

Jordan stretched and sat her plate aside on the coffee table. They had opted to eat in the living room so she could be comfortable. "I've already got Marge working at the Pogue – managing it for me. She was glad that I had decided to quit coming in so much...said it worried her how tired I always looked. I still go in on Wednesday nights and Saturday or Sunday afternoons to look over the books and make sure things are okay. So that's taken care of.

I guess the next thing I need to do is tell Garrett and the rest of the morgue staff that I'm pregnant. I need to make sure my bases are covered there. I may do that this afternoon."

Woody nodded. He knew about the Pogue. He had purposely gone in there a couple of nights to see if she had been working. Gordan had told him she was "slowing down a little."

"I'll go with you to tell Garrett," Woody said suddenly.

Jordan looked at him, surprised showing on her face. "You don't have to...He won't bite me...at least not too hard." Jordan had kept a sinking feeling that Garrett would be disappointed in her...let down in some way. "But if you'd like to tag along, I won't mind."

"It's my baby, too...our 'problem' together. Maybe he won't bite at all if I'm there." He gave her a grin.

"Somehow, Wood, I don't think of this as a problem. I knew I wanted to have the baby. I just didn't know how much until today. The sonogram just made it seem...more real."

"More real than throwing your guts up every morning?" Only Woody knew she was still suffering from some lingering morning sickness.

Jordan grinned back at him. "Yes. Really. And I guess the next thing I need to do is move back into Dad's house. It's ready. I had the carpets cleaned last week. My lease is up the end of this month and I've already told them I didn't want to renew it."

"I'll help you with that. That's something you definitely don't need to do by yourself."

"I was kind of hoping you would. I've got to take down my bed. Most of my stuff is already packed up."

Woody set his plate down on the coffee table. Somehow, after the sonogram this morning, he felt Jordan's attitude shift. For the first time, in a very long time, he had seen her smile, almost becoming one of those glowing pregnant women that he had heard about. Maybe she was putting the past behind her...maybe she was letting go of Max's death...maybe she was re-thinking their relationship. So just as tentatively as he had reached for her hand at the doctor's office, he gently reached for her and pulled her to him. To his delight, she came without hesitation and snuggled close.

To Jordan, it felt almost like coming home. She had missed his jokes, his grins, his unruly hair. But most of all, she had missed feeling what it was like with him...the warmth, the secure feeling that nothing bad could happen, the feeling that she was finally safe and loved. She felt him kiss the top of her head. And she did nothing to stop him when he tilted her head up and his lips touched hers.

She was lost...in the feeling...in the minute...in him. When his tongue gently probed into her mouth, she readily accepted it, eager to reignite the passion they had been keeping hidden for so long. He held her for long moments, kissing her, only reluctantly pulling away when his watch chimed it was two o'clock. "Better stop now, while we can," he said, smiling slightly at her. "If you have to be at work by three, I don't want to start something we can't finish."

They got up from the couch and Jordan put the dishes in the sink. Woody drove her to the morgue. He was going to take her SUV and begin to haul some of the boxes she had packed from apartment to her house. Then he was going to pick her up and take her to dinner. Together, they took the elevator to the morgue offices. She gently tapped at Garrett's door and nearly jumped when he said "Come in."

"Um...Garrett, you got a minute?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure. Come in. Have a seat. How's it going, Woody?"

Nervously Jordan sat down. Woody sank down beside her and took her hand.

"Garrett, I need to tell you something...It's important, because while it won't affect my work here, it will affect the way I work here."

Garrett pulled off her glasses and looked closely at her and Woody. "What have you gotten yourself into now, Jo?" he asked.

"I...well...I mean we..." she stammered.

"Jordan's pregnant. We're having a baby," Woody said quietly, looking Garrett in the eye.

"Oh." That was the only thing that came out of Garrett's mouth for a long time. Finally Jordan got up the courage to look at him and found him smiling softly at her. "Are you happy?" he asked.

Jordan's shoulders sagged with relief. She honestly didn't know how Garrett would take the news. "I'm very happy....and a little scared."

"You wouldn't be normal if you weren't. It's a big responsibility. Congratulations. And we'll take care of things here – help on the scene, moving bodies. No x-rays for you. And we'll keep dill pickles or chocolate or whatever you're craving in the refrigerator." He stood up and hugged Jordan. "Now go tell Nigel, Bug, Peter, and Lily. They've all noticed you've been a little under the weather lately and have been worried. Now they'll know why."

Jordan made to leave the room and held her hand out to Woody.

"Let Woody stay in here with me a minute," said Garrett. "I need to say a few things to him."

Jordan gave Woody a glance over her shoulder as she left. While Max may be gone, it seems Woody was not going to escape the "So you've knocked my daughter up, what are you going to do about it?" lecture. Garrett was going to take Max's place.

She made her way down to the rest of the morgue offices, walking in to find Peter, Bug, and Nigel going over the results of an autopsy they had done this morning. "Hi guys," she greeted them.

"Hey love. What have you been up to this morning on your time off?" asked Nigel, his nose still buried in the pages that Peter had brought him.

"Been to the doctor."

Nigel set aside his papers and they all looked at Jordan, concerned. "Anything wrong?" asked Peter.

"Um... not exactly. I just need to tell you....I'm pregnant."

For a moment there was dead silence in the room and then sheer pandemonium broke out. Finally, when she had too many questions hurled at her at once, Jordan held her up hands for quiet. "I'm pregnant, not terminally ill. Yes, I can work and will work up until the time I'm due – which is mid-July. I'll take a six week maternity leave and yes, I'll be back. I'm fine. I just can't do a lot of the lifting now and no x-rays. Any questions?"

Bug and Peter shook their heads and went back to work. Nigel took her by the arm and marched her outside the door and around the corner where they could talk in private.

"I take it the baby's Woody's?" he asked.

"Yeah..."

"Is he going to marry you?"

"Not now...I don't know if we will."

Nigel paced for a minute. "How do you think you're going to do this by yourself if he doesn't? You don't have a typical nine-to-five job, Jordan..."

Jordan didn't know how or what to reply to Nigel to calm him down. Of all the people she told about the pregnancy, she assumed Nigel would take it the most calmly. He looked angry...whether it was at her because she had gotten pregnant or if he was angry over the fact that she and Woody had no immediate plans to marry, she couldn't say. Just then, Woody came around the corner and rescued her.

"There you are," he said, gently pulling her away from Nigel. "How's it going, Nigel?"

"Good....What are you going to do about this?" he asked, almost angrily.

"Don't worry...I promise...it will be okay," replied Woody, walking Jordan away from Nigel, back down the hall to the safety of her office. "Don't feel bad," he said to Jordan. "I just got the third degree from Garrett. Max may not be here, but Garrett is doing a fine job taking his place. He didn't ask if we were getting married, he asked _when_. And was livid when I told him I didn't know if we would, let alone when."

"I'm sorry Wood. I mean they have no right...I don't know what came over them..."

Woody tugged her into her office and deposited her in her desk chair and closed the door. "They love you, Jo. They're just being protective."

"I could understand if it was anyone else but you...but you're the father. Woodrow Hoyt. They know you better than that."

Woody ran his fingers through his hair again. "I'm still not so sure they're not right, Jo."

"Let's not get started again. I won't marry you because you feel obligated."

"It's not all obligation and you know it. There's something else there. You're just fighting it."

"Maybe....but I still don't feel that I'm right for you...that you'll regret it...and end up hating me."

Woody shook his head. "I could never do that...I could never hate you. Not in a million years. You mean too much to me – and you have since _before_ the baby."

Jordan looked in his eyes. He was telling the truth...and it thrilled her. If she could only get over her feelings that she wasn't the right girl for him...if only something, anything could quell her doubts about herself, she'd marry him in a heartbeat. She loved him. She just didn't know if that was enough.

Woody came over to her chair, resting one hand on each side of the armrests and looking her in the eyes. "We need to talk about this some more...soon. I would really like for both the baby and you to have my last name before July 17."

Jordan nodded. "Okay...the marriage thing is up for discussion. But I need to go to work now. It's already after three."

Woody gently kissed her forehead. "Don't work too hard. I'm going home to change and then I'll start moving your boxes."


	16. A Moving Experience

Woody entered Jordan's apartment with some trepidation. What Jordan meant by "most of my stuff packed up" and what he expected could be two entirely different things. To his pleasant surprise, her apartment was organized, the boxes stacked neatly, and labeled with their contents. _I never took her for a neat freak,_ he thought as he loaded the boxes onto a hand truck and took them downstairs to her SUV. He got all the boxes in it and went back upstairs for a final run through of her apartment. The furniture would have to wait for the movers....but most everything else he had gotten. Then he spied the antique hatbox on the floor by her bed. _I can at least get that in the seat_, he thought as he bent to pick it up. It was light as a feather and he wondered if there was anything at all in it. Curious, he sat down on her bed with the box and opened it. For a minute he didn't recognize what it was, then he saw the florist card with his writing: _Thanks for staying last night. Sorry I was such a bastard. Let me make it up to you. Love, Woody._

His roses...his card. She saved them because they meant something to her...something special. Maybe he meant something to her...something more than a friend. Just as he knew he had been right with Jordan's pregnancy, he knew he was right about this: She loved him. She did. And she knew it. She was just afraid. Not so much of commitment anymore, but afraid she would disappoint him...that in the end he would regret marrying her. He bit his lip. He was going to have to change that. Starting tonight, he would convince her that he wanted her just as she was...and that would be more than enough for the rest of his life.

* * *

Jordan signed her name to the last autopsy report of the day. It was late, nearly eight o'clock. Woody had called and told her he was running a little behind, but hang tight, he'd be there soon. She was tired...the sonogram, lunch with Woody....the rush of emotions. Lightly, she stroked her tummy and then laid her head down on her arms on her desk. Before she knew it, she was sound asleep...she didn't hear Woody as he came to her door.

He watched her from the doorway for a few minutes. She was sleeping soundly, oblivious to her surroundings. _Dr. Williams said that she would experience tiredness, more than usual_, Woody thought. He walked over and gently shook her awake. "Hey, you, ready for dinner?" he asked softly as she opened her eyes.

Jordan sat up and rubbed her forehead. "Yeah...guess I dozed off for a few minutes. Let me grab my purse and we can go." She reached down for her purse and when she sat back up, Woody was holding three pink sweetheart roses out to her.

"Happy Valentines Day," he said.

Jordan was speechless. Her last thought of Valentines was this morning on the way to the doctor's office. "Thanks, Woody." She buried her nose in one of the buds. "Pink roses are my favorite..."

He smiled and reached out for her hand. "Dinner. Now. Pregnant women need to eat. And you're welcome."

He took her to dinner at a small café around the corner. Nothing fancy, just somewhere they could be together and talk. "I got your boxes moved to the house. All of them. Now we can get the movers in for the furniture and you'll be good to go."

"Did you get my clothes, too?"

"Yeah... So I guess you'll be at the house from now on?"

Jordan nodded, her mouth full. Woody was glad to see that her appetite had picked back up and she was eating better. "Looks that way."

"Will you be okay by yourself? Do you want me to stay with you?"

"I'll be fine, Woody. That would be awfully inconvenient for you."

"Not if I moved in."

That took Jordan by surprise. His statement was never one she could imagine coming from his mouth. Not to her. She was hesitant. She was still finding her way...still seeing how she and the baby fit there...together...She knew Woody kept pushing the marriage issue, but her mind hadn't accepted it. She just didn't see them married...or living together right now. "I'm not sure, Woody. I...I...don't mind you staying once in a while, but on a full-time basis? I'm still getting used to this. Please, just give me a little time...."

He was disappointed, but didn't let it show. "I just worry about you...what if you fall down the stairs? Or get sick in the middle of the night?"

"I'll be fine...and careful."

"Okay...but closer to your due date, I'm going to...move in, that is. You'll need me to, then," he said. _Surely, she's not expecting to go through this whole thing alone...including driving herself to the hospital...._

"Yes. I will want you to. But just give me a little time now, please?"

Woody nodded. "Sure."

"You do understand, don't you, Woody?"

"I know you're adjusting, Jordan. But I am, too. And I want to be with you...and the baby right now."

"Just give me a few weeks. Just a few weeks."

Woody nodded. A few weeks it was. But no longer.

The movers came three days later. Woody, Nigel, and Garrett put her bed back together and got it set up. They unloaded her living room furniture and a few odds and ends that Woody couldn't get in the SUV the other night. Garrett had silently laughed at Woody. He wasn't letting Jordan so much as lift a finger....she had complained, loudly, that she was only pregnant, not decrepit. Woody had promptly told her to go back downstairs and sit down. Knit or something...do something mothers do...just stay out of their way and don't pick up a thing. She had shot him a look that could kill, but acquiesced.

"You won that one, Woody, but don't think she's gonna let you win many more," said Garrett.

"I know...I just want to win the really big fights...the ones that matter."

"Like getting her to agree to marry you?"

"Yeah...especially that one." Woody sighed and turned back around. When Garrett had given him the lecture after Woody had revealed Jordan was pregnant, Woody told Garrett that he wanted to marry Jordan...she just wasn't giving in. Garrett agreed to try to help persuade her, but he could only do so much. He also knew the detective was trying his darndest to get her to agree.

"You will...just be as stubborn as she is."

_Now that's a thought. Just be determined to let her know how much I love her just the way she is, get her to agree that she loves me...and that's that...maybe, _Woody thought.

After loading up the furniture that Jordan didn't want to keep, Nigel and Garrett left, promising to come back and help her finish straightening out everything. Woody hung around....there was a few things he wanted to do before he left for his apartment that night.

"Want a sandwich?" Jordan called from the kitchen.

"Um...no."

"You're not hungry?"

"Not yet...not really."

She walked back into the living room where he was arranging her things on the mantle. "You're pretty good at that stuff...in touch with your feminine side?" she teased.

He gave her a sideways glance and pulled her into his arms. "The only thing I want to be in touch with is you right now," he said and he sank down onto the couch and pulled her into his lap, holding her across his legs. "We need to have a talk, Dr. Cavanaugh."

Jordan groaned to herself. _Not now,_ she thought. _I'm so tired...._ "Do we have to...I mean now?"

He looked at her seriously, gently running his hand through her hair. "Yes. Now."

"Okay...what about?"

"What do you think? I want to marry you, Jordan."

"I know...and I said the issue was up for _discussion_." She emphasized the word discussion.

"And we're discussing it now. Why won't you do it?"

"There are lots of reasons, Woody. You don't have to be married now to have a baby together...and I'm still not sure that you wouldn't regret marrying me...and I ... I ..." she was appalled to hear her voice breaking. "I couldn't handle that," she finished, fighting back the tears.

Woody tightened his hold on her. "No. You're wrong. I love you. Jordan Cavanaugh, just the way she is. I've known you for three years...I know your quirks and your faults. I know your strengths and your compassion. I've felt it. I love it all – the whole Jordan package. I could never get tired of it because it makes you what you are...and I love you. And I can't imagine my life without you and have no desire to. And if you don't marry me, I'm going to be camped out on your front lawn for the rest of your life, even after our baby is grown, because I have to see you...be near you....love you. And that could be really awkward....especially if you ever try to date someone else."

Jordan laughed through her tears at his declaration. Looking into his eyes, she realized that Woody was serious. He loved her for who she was...not what she couldn't be. And he was willing to accept that and her. _So this is love,_ she thought. _Real, messy, sticky love._ Suddenly, she wasn't so afraid anymore. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she reached up and kissed him. "Okay, Mr. Hoyt. But I think you're getting ready for the wildest ride of your life."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," he said, picking her up and heading for the stairs. He was going to make love to her, but wanted to do it this time on a bed, where they both would be comfortable. "By the way, does that mean yes, you're going to marry me?"

"Yes. I will. But I still need sometime. Okay, Woody?"

"Anything...just before the baby's born or shortly after, okay....no let's wait a year or anything?"

"Fine by me..."

Depositing her on her bed, he took his shirt off and his belt. She had already removed her top. Laying down beside her, he softly kissed her, one hand reaching around her back to undo her bra. The other hand gently stroking her abdomen. "We'll be slow and careful," he whispered.

"The doctor said up until the last month," she caught her breath and moaned as Woody found that sensitive spot underneath her ear.

"Would be okay," he finished. "I know. Let's take advantage of the time."


	17. Barefootin'

The winter passed and Jordan's belly grew with each passing week. From behind, it was difficult to see that she was pregnant. In the front, it looked like she had swallowed a beach ball that someone just kept expanding. Everyone at the morgue was extra careful with her, but still, she tried to continue work as normally as possible...given the fact that she was now six months pregnant.

"Hey," said Garrett, one morning after she had entered her office and began her paperwork. "Feel like an autopsy?" He was standing in her doorway, grinning. Only he and Woody...and maybe Nigel, knew that her morning sickness had not passed. It stayed with her the duration of the pregnancy and some days was morning, noon, and evening sickness.

Jordan looked up and smiled. "This morning, yes. What do we have?"

"Bullet wound victim in two. I'll help, if you want me to."

"Be right there."

Jordan changed into her scrubs and joined Garrett in autopsy two. "So you're feeling good this morning?" he asked her.

"So far, so good. At least junior or junior-ess isn't kicking up too much of a problem now. We'll see as the day goes by."

"How are things going between you and Woody?"

"That's good, too. He stays a couple of nights a week. Goes with me to the doctor's. We see each other as much as our schedules allow."

"And he's okay with this?"

"No...you know what he wants."

Garrett did. He knew Woody wanted to marry Jordan now. Jordan was still holding off... for some reason. Her latest excuse was that she was too pregnant now to find a nice dress....and forget a honeymoon. Garrett knew that she loved Woody, but was still running in her own way. Woody was being patient, but Garrett also knew his patience was wearing thin.

"Why don't you just give in and put the poor boy out of his misery?"

"Not now....it's not a good time."

Garrett pulled Jordan around to face him. Determinedly, he lifted her face shield and replied, "That doesn't cut it. That's not the reason and you know it. What's going on Jo?"

"Yes, it—"

"No. It's not. I know you, and you're scared of something. What is it?"

Jordan lowered her eyes and looked at the floor. "It's a lot of things, Garrett. I'm still afraid that I'm not what he needs...that he'll regret marrying me in the long run. That I'll be a mistake in his life." She lowered her voice to a whisper to try to control the tears. "And that makes me afraid that he'll leave...and I'll be alone again. Mom left. Then Dad. Everyone that I loved...that was my family....left me. And I just don't think I could handle it if Woody did."

"So it's better to never really commit to him at all than risk having what probably will be the thing you desire most in your life?"

Jordan gave him a puzzled look. "I'm not following..."

"A family, Jordan. A family. Your family. Woody. You. The baby. Is it worth the risk? That's the question you have to answer. Woody already has...now you have to decide for yourself."

She nodded. "I see...."

"You need to decide. Finish up here and go home. Think about it. Give the boy and yourself an answer."

Jordan helped Garrett complete the autopsy and then drove herself home. She had changed into her maternity jeans and a shirt and was beginning to start supper when the doorbell rang. It was Nigel.

"Nigel, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Jordan, love, you need to come with me."

"Why? Is there something wrong at the morgue? Garrett?"

Nigel reached out and put his arm around her. "No, love. It's Woody. There's been another shooting...."

That was all Jordan heard. She grabbed her purse and followed the lanky Brit down the steps, running to the passenger side of the car.

"Hurry Nigel," she yelled. She buckled quickly. Then she realized. She didn't know if they were going to the hospital....or the morgue. She swallowed hard and tried to make her lips form the question. Looking over at Nigel, who was pushing well past the speed limit and dodging the Boston five o'clock traffic, she managed to get out, "Where..."

"The hospital. But I have no bloody idea how he's doing. Garrett is on his way over now."

Jordan grabbed her cell phone and dialed Garrett's number. There was no answer.

"He's probably had to turn it off in the hospital, Jo. We'll be there in a minute. Hang on." Nigel floored it again.

Jordan flipped her phone shut and shoved it in her purse. Nervously, she chewed her bottom lip, her mind flying in a million directions at once. _How badly is he shot? How many times? Where did it happen? Oh, God...what if he's critical...and he doesn't.... _Her mind cut her off there. It couldn't take her to a place that was too painful to go. _Oh God...if Woody's okay...if he makes it, I swear I will marry him tomorrow, God. I swear. I'll marry him and love him for the rest of my life, the very best way I can...Oh, please just let him live._

Nigel glanced over at Jordan nervously. She hadn't said a word since hanging up her cell phone. He had no clue she was bargaining with her Maker. He swung in the parking lot and parked in the emergency area. Jordan gave him no chance to help her out of the car. As soon as the car slowed to a halt, she flung open the door and ran into the emergency room. Breathlessly, she approached the nurse at the desk, who promptly motioned for a wheelchair.

"No, NO, I'm not in labor...I'm here for...here for..." _Oh hell,_ she thought, _if I tell her I'm just Woody's friend or his fiancé, they won't tell me a damn thing and won't let me go back because I won't be considered the friggin' next of kin..._ "my husband, Woodrow Hoyt," she finished.

"Oh, Mrs. Hoyt," the nurse greeted her. Jordan thought the name sounded strange to her ears.._Mrs. Hoyt?_. "You're husband's the back room. Take this hall and turn right..."

Jordan didn't wait for her to finish. She ran down the hall, took a right, and bumped clean into Garrett, nearly knocking him down.

"He's back there, Jo," Garrett said, pointing. "And he's..."

Again, Jordan didn't wait. She ran down the rest of the hall and flung open the curtain of the small cubicle that held Woody. He was sitting on the exam table, calmly rebuttoning his shirt. On his head was a cut, roughly three inches long, held shut with a butterfly bandage. Jordan swallowed hard. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears and for a moment the room swam. Then she felt Woody's arms go around her, catching her before she fell into a dead faint on the floor.

"Hang on...let me get a doctor..." he said, reaching for the call button on the bed.

"No...No.. I'm okay, honestly." And she was. She was hugging him back, her face pressed against his half-closed shirt, just breathing in the scent of him...and thanking God that he was okay.... "I was just worried...so afraid...."

Woody held her tightly, feeling her tremble. Realizing what her dilemma was, he backed over to the table and propped against it, just holding her, stroking her back and hair, willing her heart to quit beating so hard and for her nerves to calm down.

"Shhhh...it's okay. I'm okay..."

"Tell me what happened?" she asked.

There was no way Woody was going to tell her about the shoot out that he had just been in. She could learn the details later. So as much as he could, he sanitized the tale, without deliberately lying to her. "There was a domestic call I had to answer....just got in the way of a bullet. But I stopped it with my head....so nothing was hurt," he replied, joking with her, trying to get her to laugh or at least smirk a little.

"How bad?"

"Well, the husband was shot numerous..."

"Not them, dummy. You. How badly are you hurt?" Her face was still buried in his shirt, her arms still tight around him."

"Not bad...just got a good grazing. No stitches even. Just a band aid and permission to stay home the rest of today and tomorrow."

It was then Woody felt her sigh and her shoulders sag in relief....and felt her tears wet the front of him. He tried to lift her chin and look at her face, but she wouldn't let him, just pulling him closer to her, as if still trying to convince herself that he was okay...he was there...and he wasn't leaving her this way.

Just like he did when her father died, Woody simply held her and let her cry it out. He wasn't quite sure right now whether to chalk her reaction up to hormones or fear, but he just held her. When her tears subsided, he gently cupped the side of her face and lifted her eyes to meet his. "I'm okay, Jordan. What gives? You're a doctor. You could tell the moment you looked at me in the doorway that I was fine. What's wrong?"

Jordan bit her lip. She wanted to tell him that when she saw him in the emergency room, she wasn't looking at him like a doctor...she was looking at him like a woman in love...with him. But the words wouldn't come. Her heart was too full...

"Jordan, what's wrong?" he repeated.

"I....I...was scared Woody. I was scared you were really hurt or worse...and I don't know what I would do if you were...how I could go on...I love you so much..." Now that the words had started, she couldn't stop them. "Do you think that's enough? Do you think that is enough to keep us together – you, me, and the baby – for the rest of our lives? You won't regret marrying me? I'll try, Woody, I swear, I will. I want to make this work... but I'm so afraid. So afraid one day you'll leave. Because of me. And I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to. I'll marry you tomorrow, if you're still sure that's what you want...I love you." Her eyes were full of tears that were threatening to spill over and run down her cheeks.

Woody held his breath as he heard her admission. _So that is it..._he thought _she really was scared that I would regret marrying her. And now she doesn't care...she just wants me in her life. Forever._ A huge grin crossed Woody's face. "You're serious? You'd marry me tomorrow?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice to go on much further.

He hugged her back to him, kissing the top of her head before he claimed her lips again. "Well...I think we can wait a few days...you need to get a dress...I need to get moved in..." They chuckled together, Woody still holding her. "You were really scared, weren't you? You were really scared I had gotten hurt."

Jordan nodded, still resting her head against his chest, feeling deeply satisfied that his heart was beating reassuringly under her ear. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she joked back.

"Your feet."

"My feet?" Jordan looked up at him like he was nuts, only to find his eyes observing her feet. She followed his line of vision to the floor.

She was barefoot.In her haste to get to the hospital...in her urgency to make sure he was all right, she had forgotten to put on her shoes.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Two weeks later, in the living room of Garrett's home, Woody and Jordan were married by Paul, a priest that Jordan had known since she was in high school. The ceremony was small, warm, and attended by only close friends from the morgue and the police force. Woody thought Jordan had never looked lovelier in her white dress and with flowers in her hair. The reception was a bigger affair, held at the Pogue. It was good to have a joyous event at the bar, as the last big occasion that drew most folks there had been Max's wake.

As babies go, the Cavanaugh-Hoyt infant was no different from any of the rest, having its own timetable and own agenda. When Jordan was just two days shy of the beginning of her ninth month of pregnancy, her water broke on a Saturday morning. Fortunately, she and Woody both were home and made it to the hospital in plenty of time. On June 28, Maxwell Garrett Hoyt was born, all eight pounds and seven ounces of him, crying lustily at his entrance to the world . Jordan kept her promise to Woody that she would not use the names "Woodrow" or "Wilson" in the child's name. Like his father, Little Max, as he would be known as for years to come, had a crystalline pair of blue eyes. Like the grandfather he was named after, his hair was blonde – making him the picture of Irish lineage. And he had his mother's smile, his lips curling up in a devilish manner before breaking into a full grin.


End file.
